The Drifting Anchor
by Diem Siobhan
Summary: Plagued by the stress from so many years at the sea, Edgar Hansen finds managing his life away from the Northwestern to be a greater challenge than the Bering Sea. Primary characters from Deadliest Catch : Northwestern and Cornelia Marie
1. Introduction

Heavily lidded eyes watched footsteps weave down the familiar row, retracing steps known by heart. Wet salt and pepper hair hid behind a raincoats hood, hands dirty from weeks worth of work-dirt, he knew fair well they would stay stained for the days to follow. Reaching for another bottle of Old Crow, one already tucked under his arm, another gripped firmly in his hand, he walked to the register. This small Alaskan port town knew their fishermen well.

An exchange of cash and and an all too familiar look of apathy, Edgar tugged at his hood and walked out. "_Good to see you're back in town_" rang through the air, and with a simple gesture by raising his hand, he did not turn, but acknowledged the cashier.

He made his way down from the ship supply store off of Ballyhoo Road, to where he would reside and allow his addiction to flourish. A little over two-and-a-half miles straight down Ballyhoo Road to Salmon Way, he would find shelter from the mixture of rain and sleet in the only hotel on the isle: The Aleutian Grand.

He had just finished up a marathon run on the Northwestern (is what he'd like to convince himself) but the reality was- his brother the captain, booted him off until he could get his act together. After separate incidences of a bridle snapping, a hook flying recklessly, and multiple errors at the rail, he was no longer acting the role of a seasoned deck boss. No, Edgar was now just a danger to himself and those around.

Typically, morale on a fishing vessel (while weeks out at sea can try even the most stable individuals) is fairly volatile. However, have a vessel with 6 men, all with varying personal demons and a severe case of homesickness? You have yourself a floating, ticking time bomb. Never mind to mention the baseline of stress with this way of life, that is constantly coursing through the veins of the Bering Sea fishermen.

Nerves can be shot so easily on a vessel, tossed by 20 foot waves and 60 knot winds, especially when your mind is struggling to remain focused on a task at hand. A mere hesitation of thought can land you in the frigid Bering Sea, a place few live to talk about once taking a dip into her lairs. Edgar is one of very few who have lived to talk about it, but today is not one of those days he's feeling all to chatty or up to reminiscing of the time he almost lost his life to the untamed sea.

No, instead he was going to drown the sorrows of what his life had amounted to in a fitting place: The Aleutian Grand. In her first few months of business, she was packed with fishermen checking out the accommodations and locals of the quiet town of Unalaska wanting to see what the fuss was all about. As seasons shifted, and the fishing vessels reached their quotas, the hotel fell on flat business, oftentimes employing only a crew of 4 to man the 118-room facility. Over time, and limited funds, what was once a nice lodge, became the "Grand Illusion" - barely a shadow of it's former self. Now, the Aleutian Grand would grasp at any patron, without wowing them, while still keeping a tag of $150 a night. The curtains stained and dusty, the televisions outdated with rabbit ears in a crapshoot attempt at reception; Edgar called this place home more times than even he could accept.

Roughly halfway to his destination, Edgar approached the apex of Ballyhoo Road, he knew staying on track to Airport Beach Road would lead him to the destination of the hotel where he would inevitably end up. However, even on such a day, despite how most would feel, this was balmy to Edgar; a little detour down East Point Road would lead to East Point Drive and he knew from there he could hop Iliuliuk Bay and end up on 2nd Street. 2nd Street housed one of the most infamous and notorious bars in the world: The Elbowroom. Several years back, the original owner of the rough and tumble bar, Larry, sold it and the namesake changed to Latitudes. Word was, Jimmy Buffett who once played a set there in the 1990's was the bars inspiration.

At 39-years-old, Edgar was nearly 25-years deep into this business. "The good old days" were in the early 1980's when the fishing was good, the profits were bigger and a sailor was still a very rugged man; Edgar was 19, and many fishermen would end up at The Elbowroom after a trip, duration greatly depending on the luck and how the fishing went. It had been several years since Edgar's face was seen in the bar. Having dealt with and faced many drinking demons, most likely starting from the age when he first came up to Unalaska, he had valiantly stayed away from the bar that held so many memories and offered his weaknesses to him so unapologetically. But on this night, after that trip, his mind was made up before the question even came, as he headed southeast down East Point Road.

Known as a man of few but subtle words, Edgar was especially tight-lipped and less cooperative than usual. His motives tonight were to forget everything, forget the last two, almost three decades of his life, and for the night just be. Be whoever he wanted, act however he wanted, because for how he felt and where his head was, he had not a thing to lose.

* * *

Several moments later, Edgar had already tapped into the first bottle of Old Crow. In Unalaska, for at the time with a population of a little over 1000 people, a place like Latitudes wouldn't mind seeing Edgar walk in with an armful of liquor, so long as he still bought a drink or two inside. Not looking to score a hit, or another woman, Edgar was just wanting to sit, stare, think, and not have to move a muscle when it came to replenishing his drinks. The Hansen men came from strong, brooding and fearless Norwegian bloodlines, emotions typically were swept under the proverbial carpet and rarely reared any kind of expression on the face of the Norwegian Hansen men. Today was no different.

Shuffling in, drenched and soggy bottomed, his hood still overhung his eyes, he sat at a red plastic stool at the end of what could be no more than a 7 foot long bar top. Before a word was spoken, a white square appeared on the wooden bar top, followed by a tumbler, two ice cubes clanking as they settled at the bottom, and a long stream of whiskey poured filling it near the rim. Trying to figure out from the face of him if he were up for a chat, the bartender just kept his comment to himself and would let Edgar talk whenever and if ever he felt the urge.

* * *

Fishermen are a defined breed. They're business, but they're fun. They're wild, but incredibly courageous. They're one of the last true blooded American men; they carry on traditions often from their grandfathers and keep a family business alive. The lives of Bering Sea fishermen, and commercial fishermen has evolved over time, but one fact remains: 9 months of the year their lives are put up to a challenge: fight or flight.

For weeks upon weeks, fishermen are surrounded by the endless sea in any direction they look. Aside from fellow deckhands, the only signs of life come from seagulls resting on the bow or perhaps another fishing vessel miles out. You can try a mans sanity by throwing him on a Bering Sea-bound fishing vessel. Fight or flight sets in when the job becomes especially tiring.

A 19-hour stretch, slow fishing, fatigue and hunger plague the mind, while the will is determined to keep pace and keep up. Deckhands are not weaklings, they are not men that complain and cry about their inconveniences or misery. No, instead they are bred to keep quiet, do the job at hand, and help bring in crab so they can all head back to port and get another season under their belt. With all this, however, comes the mental drain. The hours of partial conversation and few exchanged words, leads to a lot of thinking. A mind can be hundreds of miles away, while the body still set on autopilot doing a job. It is now, in these moments where the fishermen face their true fight.

* * *

The danger often escapes their thought process. It becomes routine to face the rolling of the vessel, the waves crashing and pounding the boat, thrusting and thrashing against. Rogue waves, the "freak waves" can blindside, throwing everyone from their bunks and breaking windows, potentially crippling the boat so badly it can barely limp back to safety. The idea of having to frantically gear up in an immersion suit, all the things that could go wrong... it's all a part of the job. A part that sometimes they dangerously become so lax to that it comes to bite. Edgar would know.

It's now, these moments where fatigue meets reality, a raw and factual glance down the barrel of that shotgun that's right in your face, when these men crack. Often the trickle effect creates a snowball, and further down the line all the dominos go. Matt, Jake and Edgar, three men brought together by a vessel and bonded by their demons. This is a tale of where fact meets fiction. True lives are blurred. This is not a fishing tale or a factual event of what takes place aboard, so much as what happens to the psyche of men already worn down, who have one of the deadliest jobs, and face damning struggles. It's an evolving tale of family, friends, struggles and dramatic triumphs.

Welcome to: The Drifting Anchor


	2. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**: Thank you for taking the time to read my first publically submitted story. I have been writing off and on for years, all for leisure or requested meme's and Mary Sue's for friends. What started as a hobby as a 14-year-old many moons ago, has followed me well into my adult life. Before you continue with the story, I would first like to give a brief outline of how I write. In this story, I like to dub this my "fact based fiction" type writing. Most of these places you can google to find actual pictures of what I'm talking about. I find it's a nice way to blur the lines of reality a bit more and segue into what is happening with these characters. Second, these first few chapters, as with any, are to set up the direction and flow of the story; do not feel put off because of an introduction to an entirely different side of this story as you're about to see. It all comes together and has a way of doing so via a literary dance. _And finally, in no way, shape or form is this a true story. All crew from the Deadliest Catch (eg: Northwestern, Cornelia Marie, Time Bandit, etc) are the rightful owners of trademark and registered publishing for their specific namesakes. I make no claims of ownership; I am just a writer, doing what I love. _

* * *

Tucked away off E Kayak Lake Drive, a newly built home was buzzing with activity. Boxes were being unpacked, while others kept filtering in from the men with the moving company. The Mayflower company had a hard time maneuvering the roads that climb a steady incline, only to reach an unforeseen unpaved road leading to Emh's new home. The house sat on a little over 3 and a half acres situated among beautiful hills and trees and more importantly to Emh, it had ample privacy.

A move half-way across country was in store after a hectic 25-years in the same place, with the same drama, and the same family that saw the world from a sofa, with narrow coke bottle lenses and an attitude stuck in the 50's. Routine became tedious, predictability her driving force to run, not walk, away from it all. What her old home had, Seattle would certainly have: universities, people, golden retrievers and a lot of gorgeous nature. Relocating wouldn't take a lot.

The modest 1800 sqf home was definitely a change from the home she left; her parents. Circumstance left the home she lived in as a makeshift, rundown, essentially unkempt home. It was old, showed it's age and when things broke, they were not fixed. Emh spent years paying for her parents bad choices, being left to handle and clean up a torrent marriage that left her head spinning at the ripe age of 18. However, gruff opinions from family, a realization that this is only one life you get to live, Emh opted to pick up what she had and leave. With a simple A.A.S under her belt, Emh figured she'd be of use somewhere.

Having worked from the time she was able, full time at 16, she made quite the credit score for herself, and had strong reliable references that would dote and pride on her willfully. For Emh though, the reality was this: she wouldn't have the ability to get a loan for a place of her own unless she had a co-debtor. Calling in over 10-years of favors, a reluctant-but-making-good-on-his-promise older brother signed for a mortgage loan. The search led to Monroe, Washington. The hunt was fun, Emh knew not a lot of people get to log onto a website like Realtor and just browse a housing budget until they find their home. Whether it were in Orlando, Austin or Chicago, when a house piqued an interest, the town-research began.

The idea of moving to the rainiest place in the continental US was not exactly the most appealing, but the 'Travel Washington' website won Emh over. Sight unseen, aside from the photos, a few realtor calls later, a showing was in order for a particular home in Monroe and a few within the neighboring counties of King and Snohomish. A rainy day fund was put to use and a flight along with the willing debtor brother ensued.

As they would say, the rest is history.

Maxing out the pre-approved mortgage loan, she was now a home owner. Quite a stretch from living in the lower level of her childhood home, to moving across country abruptly as a first time home owner; Emh received the keys to her new home April 18th. A long trek was in order across the western states of the US to relocate her few belongings; Emh never looked back. Minnesota had done right by her, despite always having sworn to be a lifer in that state, reality was different. Things don't always play out the way you imagine; Washington uprooted the native Minnesotan with the promise of change.

Truth be told, she hadn't many things to transport. It was however, an ample opportunity to take in an uninterrupted conversation with Thomas, her oldest brother and part owner of this new home. Throughout the years things had fallen to the wayside with them; a wife and a baby, and working as an international businessman can do that as Emh always acknowledged. This trip with Thomas was welcomed, but saying goodbye would be hard. Perhaps, as he suggested, this may offer more opportunity to see one another; Seattle was a frequent stop for meetings. Although they never kept him more than a day, two max. Already though, Washington looked to have it's hidden perks.

Flying out the evening they arrived, having an unplanned and unexpected stop in Yellowstone, his flight out ended up being several hours after reaching Monroe. A hug, a promise and a congratulations fell from the proud Thomas's lips as a lasting airport hug lingered before his last call to board, broadcast overhead. As Thomas boarded, a wave of dizziness hit Emh as she realized for the first time, she was here, in her new state, without a soul here she could call a friend. Despite the day side trip, a voicemail left for Emh noted the Mayflower trucks were delayed due to weather. Her first night in her first home would be without a single item. No drapery, no clothing except what Emh had packed in her road trip bag, a pretty pathetic sight as she took her first steps into the new home where rich hardwoods greeted her, and the smell of fresh paint managed to still linger. Comic relief washed over her as she realized the depth of haste she had in this move. She didn't even know who to ask to find a store like Target to get a few things she'd need for overnight. Like a pillow. And some toilet paper. And perhaps a blanket.

It was quarter after six in the evening on a Thursday. Emh had filled her Hyundai up with gas after leaving the SeaTac airport. She tried recalling but failed to really remember where she thought she had seen a store between here and the airport. A bit of driving was in order she surmised, eventually she'd find her way. Friday morning fell upon her very early with the east-facing windows letting in a full show of the rare sun. It was a few minutes to 7 and Emh couldn't decipher if it was the sun that woke her up, the crippling back and neck pains from a night on the hardwood floor, or the vibration coming from her phone that sounded like it was left in the nearby kitchen. Either way, she was up and won't likely forget the first night in her home.

Sprinting to the phone to pick up just as she heard a click, a flash appeared signifying the caller was attempting again. Promptly picking up this time, a brief exchange of words revealed her truck-worth of personal effects from Minnesota were making their way down the Interstate, arriving within the hour. 'Yay, boxes' Emh thought. Her humor was quite dry.

Almost on the hour exactly, 8am arrived and so did a small team of movers. Quite the production for so few real items, perhaps a dozen big boxes, and a few chairs to make due. Really nothing so important it couldn't have just stayed back in Minnesota and allowed for a fresh start with new furniture. However, without a big budget cutting corners was essential.

The 3-bedroom, 2-bathroom home would feel empty for the foreseeable future. The bed that did come in the move would be used as a guestroom set up and eventually a new set would be purchased. Emh wanted to fall in love with a canopy bed or a 4-post bed. To be honest, her mind wasn't made up on the decorative direction she would guide her home in, and the last thing she hoped for was a typical 20-something's decor that revealed tacky prints, weird gadgets and wild colors. One thing was for sure, Emh was fond of books; her expansive collection made up at least half of the big boxes contents. Dante Alighieri and Edgar Allen Poe, Charles Dickenson, Stephen King, Mark Twain, Thomas Harris... it was an interesting collection, perverse and obscure, eclectic and a great deal were heavily influenced by her once medical aspirations with Nursing Handbooks and Guide, Nursing Practicum and Medical Dictionaries.

"Bookshelves" she thought. That would be her first furniture purchase. Well, one of them anyway.

Making quick work of unloading, payment arrangements had already been ironed out with the Mayflower company, a gesture of thanks and gratuity left, Emh turned her back to the door, leaning more heavily into it as it clicked shut behind her. Assessing the mess in front of her, the reality that this was happening bubbled up feelings of euphoria. Hundreds of miles gapping her from the life she left behind. Everything here was new. A fresh start, a whole new opportunity.

* * *

"We never really close if there's not a reason to," Trig piped up, as he re-filled Edgar's glass for the fifth time on his shift. Trig paid little attention to what he was pouring and where as he kept chatting up the fellow on the opposite end of the bar top. Images of Sig, Matt, Norman kept swirling through Edgar's head. The look of shock on Jake's face especially. The bridle snapping, not a lot you can do about that, but just leaving the rail like he did, and cussing the deckhands who were all like family to him? As if that's not enough his head hung lower realizing he stomped off deck after reaming out Matt, and telling the whole crew, boat included to "eff off". Norwegian tempers are often fierce, but something was different about this blow up. Everyone could tell.

Something simply wasn't right.

Trouble is, everyone knowing this couldn't do a lot to help, because Edgar himself hadn't a clue. Telling yourself you're going crazy isn't typically the best way to handle extreme levels of stress, nor is it a way to lessen worry by convincing yourself you're okay, just exhausted. The last season, King Crab before this current Opilio season, Edgar took to coping with the stress from home, with a bottle nightly at a Seattle watering hole. Addiction runs deep in the Hansen blood, and a taste for whiskey is Edgar's choice poison. No one knew of the private demons he reintroduced after that last, especially bad season.

He had a wife hounding him about missing milestones in his two children's lives. Back-to-back his little boy and girl were growing before their mothers eyes, while he was away earning his keep and keeping a family tradition alive. She pressed buttons, more like mashed buttons, provoked violent arguments in him upon returning. All but Sig was oblivious to the strains coming home meant for Edgar. Welcomes wore off the minute they were in closed quarters or outside of earshot from others. Viv knew how to punch below the belt, and belittle Edgar in ways that broke him down. His emotional stability and coping abilities once home after such severe fatigue were at their lowest points, and it was then she could pounce and break him entirely. She'd spend whatever time he had between runs up to Dutch Harbor, to re-program him, if you will, into a husband she thought she had married.

Viv and Edgar had been married for nearly 20-years, and they knew each other for another 10 atop that. She was very aware of the life they would lead, the traditions that went along with marrying a fishermen, and especially the sacrifices that would be inevitable by bringing children into their lives. Nothing was supposed to be a surprise and nothing came out to blindside. Edgar was madly in love with Viv from the moment he laid eyes on her. She was a great compliment to the hardened, brash, yet incredibly intelligent Edgar. She was one of an elite group of people that could reel in the youngest Hansen and still remain on his good side. She was loved by the extended group of Hansen's and fit the role and ideal for Edgar in multiple ways. At a time he was lucky, and he knew it.

What Viv didn't understand was the necessity for the sailor-esque lifestyle. The habitual swearing, the chain smoking and drinking. To a fault Viv never understood the stressors of Bering Sea fishing, comparing it to cruise ships she's been on and vacations she had done up on yachts. Sig mocked her often in a high-pitched female voice "_Oh this should be like a vacation, me me me me me me me Oh I don't understand why you have to smoke me me me me me me me Oh there's no need for drinking_" and yet to the rescue Edgar would always defend his wife, despite often agreeing to his brother in the same breath in Norwegian. So many a times the Hansen brothers would hold conversations just for their bi-lingual ears.

Troubling thing about all of this is, as Edgar sat here at Latitudes, he was blaming himself for everything. His troubles boiled down to his family, his little boy, little girl and the woman he would have given anything for. There was a shift in their marriage after the birth of his son. He was fishing in the Bering Sea when his son was born. When it should have been a high point in his marriage and in his life, it broadcast instead his problems in plain sight. He was ecstatic to have a son, to carry on his name as they had planned, and to bring him into the world of the family fishing business. It was a legacy and now through his son, he could continue it. It was a bragging right, too, as Sig only had daughters and the other Hansen clan either had no children or were not taking the same interest in the family business.

Viv on the other hand, felt entirely different. Legacy, honor, tradition and family tradition meant nothing to her. She came from a family of free-spirits and to her side, even having children with your exact namesake was a bit archaic. Funny, Edgar thought, how with a birth of a child it can drudge up feelings you never knew the other had until just then. Edgar won out though, his son was his namesake, and his wife fell further into her deep-seeded ruthlessness and started actively taking it out on Edgar. Where there's smoke, there's fire, and Viv was ready to set a blaze.

It wasn't until Jr. Was 2 weeks old before his father met him for the first time. It's something still brought up in arguments, and despite only being 3 now, Viv has been caught red-handed telling their son that daddy's priorities kept him from seeing his birth. The day Edgar heard her telling their 3-year-old to "get used to not having a daddy" he left without a word, drove from their homestead in Fall City, WA to Josh Harris's place in Monroe, and stayed until they were to head back out to Alaska. Viv hated when Edgar "ran off" with the Harris boys. For one, the 10-year gap from Josh to Edgar made Viv think Edgar as desperate for his youth to hang with such young guys, and two, the Harris men from Phil to Jake lived fast and hard.

While it did nothing to help disprove the lack of a father figure, Edgar was anticipating the day he could follow in Phil Harris's footsteps and have his son aboard. Jr. wasn't even 1 before he already had visited the Northwestern, and already made himself comfortable in the wheelhouse. He looked the part, a natural to the life of the Hansen legacy. Re-living all of these memories, Edgar squeezed tight his eyes, burning from the flood of memories. Closing tighter, a single tear raced toward the bar counter as he took a long drag on his cigarette. He went here to try and forget; but as Edgar knows, it is much easier said than done.


	3. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** I am humbled by your kind words and thoughts on this story. I am both surprised and curious to know how this story has spread as fast as it has. For anyone who cares to enlighten me, I would love to know how you came across The Drifting Anchor. I've developed an affinity for some of these characters and am letting them tell their story. This is taking on an organic feel, where it's as if this is writing itself. This does have a general outline, though I have yet to discern if it will be a novel or a novella. This will continue to be updated weekly. The first few chapters have been written in quick succession, hence the updates almost back-to-back. This will not be the norm; I want the story to have pseudo-decent writing and I don't like cranking out chapters. But I will faithfully commit to update on a regular, weekly basis. With that said, as always, _in no way, shape or form is this a true story. All crew from the Deadliest Catch (eg: Northwestern, Cornelia Marie, Time Bandit, etc) are the rightful owners of trademark and registered publishing for their specific namesakes. I make no claims of ownership; I am just a writer, doing what I love._

* * *

"Land lines weren't needed," Emh thought, as she went down her check list of things she made sure to do, before leaving Minnesota. An evening of shopping following the movers bringing all of her belongings in, left Emh with a sizeable gap in her security money, (meant only to be used sparingly until she located employment). But it was a successful trip and a lot of bang for her buck. Stumbling across an Ikea along her travels in Renton, the living room was due to have accommodations before the end of the week. However, before that could happen, a trip to the hardware store was needed so the living room furniture could be built. Slowly, but surely, over the course of the first month in Monroe, the house was starting to take shape and feel like a home. Unfortunately, some of the Ikea furniture puzzled her, and while she often could put together just about anything, some of the pieces were just beyond her abilities. 'Perhaps if Thomas visited soon', Emh thought, 'he could finish up'.

The first person to befriend Emh was actually quite rude upon first meeting. Desperate for a pick-me-up, Emh found her way to a Starbucks along Route 9 in Snohomish and went inside to order. Surprised to see they were out of her favorite coffee mix, she inadvertently held up the line. A man behind her, acting desperate for his espresso fix, made a rude remark, causing Emh to spin on her heel. Seeing his frantic appearance, Emh gave up her spot to him since he was in such a rush, keeping peace and buying time to figure out her drink. The man that eagerly took her spot, turned to feign an apology but noted his tone sounding quite sincere when he met her blue eyes.

Rather than curse him out which is what he assumed to be the natural reflex, (he was from Ewing , NJ) Emh just smiled and made light of the situation saying he must be in a bigger hurry than she. He began mentioning someone by the name of Mike Rowe, something about needing to hurry and being an assistant, then he ran out, espresso in hand, and caught an awaiting town car that sped off. Turning to finally place her order, Emh settled on a white mocha, figuring she could even change up her coffee habits since she changed up everything else.

Frequenting the Starbucks on the border of Monroe, she ran into the running man several times again. Turns out the last time he actually had time to sit and before she knew it, Emh had made her first friend. Of course he happened to be gay, dress fabulously no matter where he went, and was a transplant from Los Angeles to Seattle for PR opportunities. His name was Darlington, but went by Darl. Born in New Jersey, grew up in Los Angeles, and now bouncing between Seattle and LA. He kept commenting on the fascination of Emh's cobalt blue eyes, always wishing he had blue, born with hazel but settled with powder blue contacts. He had a penchant for calling Emh "honey" and would reference his job on many occasions. "Imagine me, honey, as a Queer Eye for the Rugged Guy" he told her one day. Emh's interest had piqued.

Turns out, Darlington Hale is quite the jack of all trades.

"I run public relations for several clients through the agency I work for. It has me traveling here several months a year when one of our shows is in production. Side hobby has me dressing the talent, if I let them on air as they were, they'd be laughed off set."

Intrigued, the name drops Darl kept mentioning rang no bells, no lights went off, but it was still a fascinating retelling with the animated and highly likeable Darl. "Rugged men" kept running through her mind, as she pictured a Paul Bunyan character, or perhaps a Jack Sparrow, or maybe a mountain man?

"You'll have to elaborate more on these rogue, rugged men, Darl" Emh noted, entirely eager to hear what these men were like. Outdoorsy men from back home were usually always married or very much taken. "Are there a lot of these rugged men here in Seattle?" she asked before hearing the answer to her first question.

"Oh honey," he laughed, "you like them rough, manly and rouge, you're in the right spot. But then again, a lot of them leave town for Alaska many months of the year. I can introduce you to some but I can't play match maker."

A look of confusion sprawled across Emh's forehead, showing hints of wrinkles. Cocking her head to one side, "you deal with these men first hand?" A smile couldn't help but cross her face, thinking her first friend in this state may have a hidden goldmine of men. Never one to turn down a rugged man, Emh knew fair well their definitions could be entirely two different things.

"Hello, Queer Eye for the Rugged Guy!" He took a sip of his chai tea, before setting it down and taking Emh's hands. "Honey, Johnathan Harris, the gorgeous Sig Hansen, Mike Rowe, these names don't ring a bell?" He searched her faced to see if there was any signs of a lie brewing, something Darl felt he had a special knack of "seeing the bullshit" before it ever left ones lips. Perplexed and to no avail, her confusion seemed genuine and her answer all the better "No, but the way you're saying their names makes me all kinds of want to."

"Well, they're married and older than you, I think ones married, I know Sig is, unfortunately" he said as he sighed overtly dramatic.

Conversation kept up on this early May morning. Still no leads on jobs for Emh. Darl had made the morning coffee date as early as he did because the men were coming together for some television show taping. Sounded like "After The Catch" but she wasn't entirely sure. Despite living in the land of 10'000 lakes for the last 25 years, she wasn't an outdoors person in the respect of fishing or hunting. Camping and hiking were more her thing, so when Emh found that these men Darl kept mentioning were all fishermen, he completely lost her.

"The only sailors I've ever known were pen pals from the Navy," Emh laughed. "I don't think I even really know the persona of a sailor. They're considered rogue though?"

"Oh my God honey, just wait. You doing anything later? It's not off par for me to show up to tapings with assistants or someone I can bluff as a helping hand. Want to meet what I define as rugged?"

As if that question didn't have an obvious answer. "Definitely."

Emh thought to herself at the very least it was another few somebody's she could say she knows in the Seattle area. One thing left out in consideration when purchasing her home was, what about neighbors? Privacy was one thing, but the lack of people in her development really stunted Emh's socializing. Along East Kayak Lake Drive, where Emh's house situated, there were 6 homes nestled in the thick woods that let out eventually to the private lake. Being an avid kayaking and canoeing person, it was one of the features that sold her on this home. But they weren't kidding when it said "a retreat" in the description. Upon further look, Emh figured the entire neighborhood dubbed as retreat homes, unlike hers which was her one and only homestead.

"Well if nothing else, Darl, they can perhaps become new friends if they're willing."

A scoff from Darlington was not exactly what she anticipated hearing. Raising an eyebrow in a suggestion of pray tell, he shook his head and giggled as a child, apparently withholding something from her. Speaking in an honest and straight tone, "I don't think they're exactly the most friendly males, as with a lot of the rugged men I meet, they're like slow cookers. Takes awhile for them to warm up to you, but once you've reached within their boundaries of trust, they're friends for life. I guess it's a fishermen thing, you _earn_ their friendship, it's not just given."

"How passé" Emh joked. "Well it won't kill me I suppose. I have nothing to do, aside from job hunting, I never have anything to do here. You're my only friend here as of now."

Looking hurt, albeit a bit theatric even for Darl, "as if you need anyone besides me. I'm everything and more, honey, including extremely fabulous." Throwing his head back as if an Adonis, he started to gather up his things. "You coming?" he asked, throwing a look to Emh that read '_if you don't you're crazy_' and before allowing her to answer he answered for her. "Of course your are, come on, lets go, we've got a drive ahead of us."

* * *

After a few too many, a tab nearing $100 and a rough attitude to boot, Edgar made attempts to start heading back to the hotel that was walking distance. It would be an easy walk, if he weren't so obliterated. Times like these, if he didn't have a reason like he does now, seeing the images of his children run through his head, he would have found himself walking down an old slippery slope looking for a hit. It once was a deep dark past that Edgar walked down alone, into an abyss of a high; it concealed pains far too deep and damaging to ever deal with. Not one to make light of issues, he buried them. Buried them deeply and in ways of substance abuse. At first it was in a scene at a party in this very bar, when it was still The Elbowroom and the fishing was all about whoever could catch the most.

Back then, you were made a man in the back room by one of the towns few women. You'd experience drugs, booze and women a-plenty, with no one to tell you when too much was too much, or to call off the rounds and the hits. It was one of the only bars where fights were allowed to settle themselves outside on the gravel, where whatever the results were, inside a bell would ring and the one who tolls offered up a round to everyone. The days were fun, fond memories and stories alike, all under the umbrella of "God we were stupid, but man it was fun".

People like Captain Phil Harris would stay up for four days straight, strung out, boozed up, eager and ready with willing women. A time before he had children and was tied down to a woman, the man knew how to live and let loose. Through Harris's antics, Sig Hansen was introduced to the woman every man had known. Skipping Norman, always the wallflower and observer, never the participant, it trickled down to Edgar being encouraged by his oldest brother, someone he admired. So he experienced the life most fishermen had in the small city of Unalaska.

Fighting the taste and the cravings for years, it was the rare occasion after an especially good season, where the men of the Northwestern _wouldn't _immediately flock to their homes in Seattle, staying back to dabble in a little debauchery at the Elbowroom. From what Edgar can remember, it was only that first time to the bar when they all got a little wild and experienced some dumb but thrilling things. After that intense bar stop years before, when they returned it was just a good old binge for the captains and crew. As always, there was the one exception, Edgar.

While addictive-personalities ran deep in the Hansen brood, it was just a taste for the firewater that the Hansen men were weak to. But for Edgar, it was not only the burn of the whiskey he craved, but the rush of the hit that he missed. His choice poison was heroin. He had done both cocaine and heroin the first time ever in the Elbowroom, mixed with duckfarts Captain Phil forced upon the whole bar. Edgar vividly remembers the captain tolling the bell and screaming "_you know what this means, fuckers, Duckfarts on me_". They truly were a noxious shot. But at 19, you didn't especially care about rules, about boundaries, about limits or calling it quits.

The memories flooded through his head, simply by being here at Latitudes. This location was the backdrop to so many of these memories; Edgar began regretting the decision to come back here. He was already in the grasp of his addiction, but letting it flourish to the ways of old, when he was 19 and dumb, wifeless and childless, it scared him. Even in his current weak state. Stumbling from his chair, Edgar threw a few 50's down on the bar and started toward the door. It would be a cool walk back this evening; March in Alaska was known to be chilly.

* * *

Two nights in The Aleutian Grand was all it took for Edgar to shake off the hangover and catch up on sleep after almost completing his full Opilio season onboard the Northerwestern. A few arrangements later, and he was flying back to Seattle, to what was anticipated to be one heck of a turbulent reunion with his wife.

He wasn't expected to be back to Viv and the kids until the beginning of April. The Northwestern was having a rough Opie season, landing only once or twice on hotbeds that filled a few pots to the brim, but most were numbers lower than 100 per pot. For opilio season, that was a low blow. His flight landed him back at SeaTac airport around the dinner hour; what few belongings he usually had with him all still reside in his bunk on the vessel, floating out in the Bering Sea. The light travel made it easy to maneuver the airport and avoid any potential fans that often stake out the airport when the men are expected back.

Hailing a cab within seconds of stepping outside the doors of the airport, he muttered an address off of Gellor Road. It was a rental property Edgar owned that was and has been vacated for several months. It's his hideaway home, away from the hustle and the bustle, and often dubbed as a vacation home for the kids and wife as it was on over five acres and had a lake that only the few homes that were built around, even knew about. It was beautiful and tranquil. Originally located in the city of Port Angeles, Edgar had the house moved to it's current location of Monroe, and kept the name of the street the home was found on. The only road which was labeled as private road, was E Kayak Lake Drive, that once you reached the dead end of, had a dogleg jut out where Edgar's home was placed. 5.5 acres of property was purchased, and when he found the home on a trip to Port Angeles, he bought up the land in Monroe and moved it.

When Edgar last visited the home, it had been before King Crab season in late September of last year. Some developer purchased the acreage adjacent to Edgar's property and placed four new homes on the land since Edgar had last been back there. As the cab took him up the steep and winding hill, they met the 'v' in the road and as Edgar instructed, they followed the road continuing down, wrapping off to the left. Asking the driver to slow as they passed the homes, Edgar noted how only two of the new homes were visible from the street. They appeared very humble but of high quality material from what he could see in the dark of night. Only the landscape lights were on, it appeared as if they still were all unsold.

Reaching the driveway of the home he would reside in until he figured what he was to do, he paid the driver, leaving a nice tip, and headed in. There was something about this property, the way it looked at night, so beautifully shrouded in a starry sky; this was a welcome he could get used to. A quiet one. It has been a crazy last few weeks and some r&r to himself was just what he would need.

* * *

The following morning, after a good stretch, a pot of black coffee that would by most standards be considered muddy, Edgar was ready to hit the ground running. At least, he felt he could. Something about this home, something so placid and calming it can take someone with as much disdain and as supercilious as Edgar, and relax him. He had located his plaid robe the night before and today walked the home in it along with his corduroy slippers.

Edgar had a realtor or two as friends; his downtime hobby was to collect rental properties, earning a supplemental income and primarily a way to keep busy. He was interested in the homes that were now in his development. At a time when Edgar came across this piece of land, there were only a few homes scattered over the entire lake. Now it seemed the number had doubled, and curious as he was, he wanted to know what the homes looked like inside.

A quick call later, he had an appointment to view two of the neighboring properties. Perhaps, he considered, it would give him some sort of inspiration, or perhaps a nice enough property to reason purchasing and renting. Whatever the case were, it surely would preoccupy his mind, avoiding the dark shadows he could feel it so desperately wanted to slip into.

Later meeting his buddy Charley at the doors of a home only a few down from his rental property, they walked in to find cherry wood floors, and a far bigger home than first impression lead on. "So this is also on the lake?" Edgar inquired, as Charley shook his head. "It's a bit farther back than yours on the south end, but yes, this home and its property line lead right to Kayak Lake. Care to take a look?"

"No, that's alright, I've seen it my man" Edgar laughed, as he slapped Charley's back. Walking around and admiring the vaulted ceilings, they made quick work of the property. It wasn't staged, it was set up for a fast move-in. "Have any bites on this property yet? When was it finished up?"

Charley took a look through some of his paperwork and turned up a date of January 12th as the closing finish date, but saw that it was completed with landscape only a week before. "As far as any interest, looks like it has a showing coming up. They just finished putting in the last of the landscape a few days ago, but no, no interest yet." It was a shame in Edgars mind that they kept taking up the beautiful land to build homes that most likely would remain vacated.

Turning on his heel, Edgar looked to Charley quizzically. "Say, how many homes are occupied on this lake?"

"It's a pretty low ratio. You've got the home on the south end of this road. There's 4 besides yours on this side now, and another 3 on the other side."

"So there's eight properties on Kayak Lake now? I thought there were more before the construction" he laughed "but how many are occupied?"

"Well if we consider yours occupied, 2." And knowing Edgar's was a rental property that often only saw tenants on holiday or for skiing season, that was a pretty pathetic ratio.

"Any idea who the other property is owned by?"

"Actually, I do" Charley noted. "He's a developer up by way of Sig's area. Fall City Constructions or something, I do forget the name, but he's a big shot with the craftsmen community. So that home too I don't believe is fully occupied. This is definitely a serene location with a lot of privacy," Charley added, looking at Edgar to see if he was ready to check the next one out. "Oh, and this is approximately 1800 sqf furnished, and another 1500 below that is partially furnished. Sits on 3.5 acres with private lake access."

With that, the two men walked, rather than drive, to the other home just a few hundred yards away. This home was clearly different and upon walking in, it did nothing for Edgar. It was a modern home set in a rustic neighborhood. "Well, he hit it out of the park with the last home, but this one I think is kind of a dud. Fortunately this one is set back from the road a bit, throws off the entire feel and flow. Are there others that look like this?" he asked, pacing through the house, looking behind a curtain, noting the rod it hung on. "I mean, don't get me wrong, this" he said, tugging on what appeared to be a microfibre window treatment, "...this doesn't exactly scream rustic or woodsy".

A nod of agreement, the two shared a laugh at the staged home one would typically find in a more modern, artsy neighborhood. "So what brings you back early?" Charley asked, stepping so far beyond the boundaries they've established that Edgar wasn't entirely sure how to answer. A bit befuddled, as it was always an unspoken rule to leave the fish talking to on the vessel, a shrug and a blow off answer of "oh, you know, fishing is unpredictable is all," Edgar abruptly put an end to their appointment.

Charley had worked with both Sig and Edgar Hansen, so he knew how they worked. He also should have known that all Hansen men were incredibly superstitious and did not speak of their fishing or "what if's" - it was taboo, it was scrutinized, it was just plain 'ol asking for bad luck. Parting after they left the home, Edgar nearly at the end of the drive before Charley had locked up, Edgar tossed his hand in the air to salute Charley, and kept heading toward his home. Thinking to himself, Edgar shook his head, of all the people, places and times to be brought back to such a reality, he knew he couldn't escape the inevitable no matter how hard he tried. Eventually he would be forced to face his decisions and actions head on.

Over the course of the week since Edgar had been back, he hadn't left the home but to get a cool jog in around the expansive development and around the trails that intertwined. He busied himself with work around the home, catching up on plans and potential tenants, and trying his best to wean himself off the bottle a night habit he's been nursing since he left the Northwestern.

Trouble living on such a secluded road was whenever a car traveled down the road, it stood out. So when two turned down the gravel road, the pit of his stomach began to flip thinking Viv came around to raise hell. But when they didn't approach and sounded as if they either turned around, or stopped short of his place, he was curious. It was garbage day the night before, and he had left the cans at the end of the street. Perfect excuse to poke around and perhaps uncover the location of the cars.

Climbing the incline to the end of his drive, he saw what appeared to be three people checking out the house he himself had done a few days earlier. Didn't exactly look like a couple, seemed to be younger than himself, no kids that he noted, but very obviously interested. It wasn't Viv was his main concern, so he headed back to the house, making quick work to go unnoticed.

He had three days before he had planned to return home. Changing his mind and opting to go home before the crew returned, he hoped to try and avoid the extra wakes having the rest of the guys home could cause. Calling a taxi company, 25 minutes later the cab arrived and set off from his rental property in Monroe, to his homestead in Fall City. This was a calculated decision. Edgar knew both Junior and his daughter Elsa would be with his mother-in-law; Viv typically "dumped them off" until the evening hours so she could catch a break. As Edgar hopped into the cab, he got a good look at the interested buyers that were showed the home on E Kayak Lake Drive. It was the home Edgar approved of, not the grossly misplaced modern home a few doors farther down. His first speculation was correct: they were young. Both license plates he noticed as the cars passed by were from Washington, "another vacation home" he assumed to himself. As Kayak Lake Drive disappeared in the background, Edgar watched as the cab drove down Frontal Road to Cherry Valley, closing his eyes as they neared the 203. Resting his head back into the leather headrest, he felt a deep set rumble groan in his stomach as they headed due south for his home.


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** A kind thank you for staying aboard this f/v as we start to set full speed ahead into the aorta of this story. As a first for this fiction, I am making note of a gentle warning that this chapter may contain adult language and situations. This is rated "T" liberally for language and back stories of brief drug use and a light dusting of domestic disputes. The Drifting Anchor will not compromise the rating any further than the aforementioned, nor will it turn sexually graphic. Now, with that out of the way, a hat tip to my beta, Jessica. Without her guidance, these chapters would be much longer than what is posted, and no matter the time of day or night her feedback can always be counted on. I plan to adhere to a once a week update, most likely falling on early Saturday morning or possibly late Friday nights depending on schedules and my contentment with the chapter. And finally, this chapters content was a necessity; it helps build the foundation that the story will grow from and without it, we'd be spinning our wheels. And as always, _in no way, shape or form is this a true story. All crew from the Deadliest Catch (eg: Northwestern, Cornelia Marie, Time Bandit, etc) are the rightful owners of trademark and registered publishing for their specific namesakes. I make no claims of ownership; I am just a writer, doing what I love._

* * *

_"...Tired of these endless games, _

_Time to end the darkened day _

_To raise the sword _

_To kill the light _

_Because there is no reason left to fight..." _

-Night Oasis

Edgar's neighborhood began appearing over the horizon; butterflies began mingling with fear and trepidation not knowing what to expect from this reunion. He hoped to Christ that none of the crew butt in or decided now was a time to meddle. Jake, Matt and Nick he knew wouldn't say a word, Norman wouldn't think of it so it boiled down to Sig. He was the wild card, he was also the only one privy to what was going on but Edgar had a foreboding thought that he was walking into a hailstorm. Something irking in him tipped off the thought that the minute he walked up the driveway, he was in for it.

As the taxi drove away, leaving Edgar in front of his home off of 297th Way, the realization that this didn't feel like home weighted down the load he already felt he was carrying. It was a sprawling estate, a place that felt foreign to him. For all the times his home was a bunk on a vessel at sea, this 6,000 sqf home was just too much. It was unnecessary, gaudy and far too showy for his taste. The vacation home he just left was more of the home he envisioned living in. There were a lot of things he pictured different lately. Such as coming home to open arms, tears and a wife who loved him and was excited to see him back safely. It had been a long time, years before the kids, when Edgar could really remember the last time he came home to an excited, loving Viv. There was a time once, when his heart didn't fill with envy as he watched the other crew being greeted on dock by their families, because he too had someone waiting for him. Now, his heart was always heavy. He'd try his best to ignore it by busying himself with Norman and deck clean up, as the others off-loaded and were met by their loved ones.

Now, here was Edgar standing before the home that all of his fishing, stress, aches and pains bought. It was sure a strange conundrum to know that a life that brought him riches was the same to rid him of them. Taking in a breath of the fresh air, he headed in.

* * *

Viv met him in the foyer. She had a look of rage on her face but a cold demeanor. She was a spit fire and one never could be certain of her reaction; Viv was not predictable. She stared him down, a look so stern it sent a chill down the spine of a man who often could do the same to others. He felt his will to fight crumble under the cold stare of a woman he still so desperately loved. "Viv, I…" was all he could get out before her open hand made contact with the side of his cheek. It was the first time in their marriage where any confrontation became physical. Both could yell, both could shell out more and spit out worse venom than their previous attack, but never had a hand touched the other in a moment of anger.

Viv pulled her hand back, feeling the sting not realizing that the burn was matching Edgar's own. Not only on his face, but in the depths of the soul the fisherman had. The one action from her sent everything spiraling out of control. His eyes met hers; for the first time he could see something in them. It wasn't a look of regret, nor was he anticipating an apology dancing around in her head, but it was something, an emptiness matching his own. How did it get like this, and more so, why?

Edgar stepped to the side, trying to cool his temper that started to bubble up to the surface. He was raised to respect women, to always take a higher road and walk away when things could go from bad to worse in a blink of an eye. What hurt, though, far more than the sting on the side of his face was that as his eyes focused, his 3-year-old son stood in the kitchen entry, having witnessed it all. His eyes darted back to his wife's face, she spun around to see that Junior had awoken from his nap and she took off towards him. The way his son ran crying from her, caused Edgar to react. He grabbed Viv's arm, stopping her in her tracks, as he went for his son. The moment was blurring in his head, he couldn't comprehend everything that was happening. Scooping up his son, Edgar retreated to a room as his wife stood still. An eerie calm fell onto the Hansen house as Viv stood still in her kitchen, blank faced as tears welled up.

He called over to his brother Sig's house where he knew his wife Jules would be. Conveniently they were located only a few houses from one another. Clearly by Viv's reaction and Jules willingness to come get his two children, Sig had said something. '_So much for trying to get in ahead of the wakes'_ he thought. It was minutes before Jules was at the door and Edgar handed off his son and daughter; the two children seemed unscathed and excited to see their aunt. Edgar went to track down his wife, she hadn't left the property and he needed to see what the hell was going on. They could not keep up with this. He wasn't going to spend his days off from fishing miserable, when 90% of the time on the vessel he was longing to be here, to be home again.

* * *

Viv was found in their lower level, sitting on a chair staring out the window. He approached her cautiously, treating her like fragile glass that clearly showed parts were already cracking. He sat alongside her, Edgar confident in his ability to keep a calm head, while trying to figure what to make of the whole situation. Viv was reacting poorly to something she really hadn't a clue about. Edgar was a stand up husband, despite the many months he was often away. He never cheated, never stepped out on his wife; he _was_ a hardworking, dedicated father. He made enough money to buy his wife whatever, take her on all the lavish vacations she could dream up; in their marriage Viv never heard a "no".

He bridged the gap between them by sitting next to her and slowly and carefully placing his hand on top of her leg. She didn't move and upon further speculation, he saw that tears were streaking her porcelain face. "Viv, how can we fix this?"

Whatever the amount of time it took for her to face Edgar, felt exponentially longer than what he assumed it really was. "You have no idea what this is like," she spoke, voice monotone and harsh, "to be the wife of a man who is never here. To know that he values his job more than his real life; who listens to his brother like he's god himself, than to reason with his family who knows that every time you leave here, you might not make it back."

Now if this hadn't been her standby response to every argument they had, throwing it in his face of the jobs danger and how often he's gone, this might have worked. "Damn it Viv," he shouted "we've gone over this. I understand your worry, but I've been doing this for more than half of my life. You knew what I did before I married you, you knew when we were married this would be what I'd want my sons to do, _if they chose_ it, I cannot just walk away from everything I've known."

"It's the job or me" she spouted. "I mean it Edgar," she looked at him, sizing up his ability to argue. She could read her husbands' face and knew the buttons to push, the words to speak to get the answer she wanted. Normally this singsong dance would end in a plethora of apologies, some fancy vacation, and another band aid to cover up their deep seeded issues.

"No." He stated, standing and pausing before he began to pace in the room filling by the moment with thick tension.

"What do you mean "no"?" She mocked, mimicking his voice, knowing it was on.

"I mean, no Viv. I don't want any of this. I want my wife back. The one I married. I haven't changed. I can't change, nothing in my life allows for it. I get up, go to work, I'm away for 9 months of the year. I fish day and night under the strain of my brother who cracks the whip on us. He's a hell of a Captain, I have an amazing crew I'm with, and I fucked up big time this past trip because when I'm there, my mind is always here. Wondering what I've done for us to end up the way we are, why I've had to worry about what you're telling our children when I'm gone, why I'm gone. I can't concentrate; I can't deal with any of this."

Before Edgar knew it, he was shouting through tears he didn't know he was shedding, in a tone that progressed from desperate to irate to hopeless and back again. "Last winter was the season of hell for me. What gives you the right to make threats like you did, when I'm already up in Dutch Harbor, leaving me to worry if I'd come back to some grizzle scene? Scaring me won't make the trip any quicker, in fact, your words, your bullshit that you spew to me, ends up making me work like a greenhorn. I can't concentrate, I'm worlds away while working the rail, what do you want from me?"

"Don't go turning this around as a 'poor me' scenario, Edgar. I've been more than caring and affectionate and I've done plenty of worrying about you. Just because I'm not a lap dog like your brothers' wife, doesn't mean I don't care. It just means that I'm not a lap dog."

"Coming to the docks to welcome me back with the kids after I've been away for 4 months constitutes as a lap dog?" He reiterated the words not only for her benefit, but so he could make sure he heard right. "Is that so, Viv?"

"So why are you here before the rest of the fleet? Sig kept it short saying you were heading in earlier, before the rest of the crew. What have you been doing this whole time? Screwing some desperate women in Latitudes? Pissing away more money at some seedy bar in Seattle? So what is it, what vice this time?"

'_This is what happens when you're honest with your wife. She holds every bit of honesty against you, using it and baiting you into a huge free for all_,' Edgar thought to himself. He paced quicker, "you're no princess either, Viv. I'm trying to work this out; I'm trying to figure how to right this wrong. I don't want to be working on that boat when my heads here, and when I'm here, wishing I were out there. I can't live like this. It's pushing me into the blackness."

"So you are using again, are you? So help me God I will pull a drug test on you and get our kids away from you."

He knew there was no voice of reason right now. No winners, they both were losing this one. "I'm going to the rental property, I need to think things through, see what I want to do about this."

"So you're running from your problems like you always do, are you now?" Viv wasn't going to let him go so easily.

"No, I came to them. I'm here. In the mix of the problem, wishing and hoping to figure out what the fuck happened to my wife, to my marriage, to what I tried so hard to have."

"Well if you were a man like either of your brothers, maybe we wouldn't have these problems. Too bad I didn't marry a captain, not some deckhand," she said, knowing fair well that was the last twisting jab to end the argument. And that it had, with an exclamation point and the last blow Edgar would willingly take.

He turned his back to her, avoiding her face; he knew Viv, she would have a small smug grin sprawled across her face, it was her victory grin. Whatever clear thought Edgar had in his mind, became static. He would pack his bags and retreat, defeated and defiled. His heart ached at the thought of the precious time he missed watching his son grow. '_3 is already a little man_' he thought to himself. Worse yet, the pit of his stomach is telling him something is wrong. The way Junior looked at Viv bothered Edgar to no end. He had no way to know what his children were subject to when he was so many hundreds of miles away. Viv wasn't who she used to be, she was barely an image of her old self.

Not knowing how long he would be gone, he found a duffle bag and went through his closet and drawers filling the bag. Whatever he'd need after, he'd purchase. Tonight, he was going to Sig's where he could stay with his children and perhaps attempt to use Jules as a therapist to see if she had any words of wisdom for the fuckery that was quickly becoming his life.

* * *

Turning the key, the engine came to life in the Tahoe. Backing away, allowing for the garage door to shut, he went only a few hundred feet down, turning the block to end up in his brother's driveway off of SE 15th Place. He called Jules from the drive-way. Opening the garage door, there was a space next to Sig's Expedition where Edgar would park the car for the evening. Sig's estate had an entire section dedicated for guests; Edgar has taken comfort here before. The exception this time was his children were there with him and for once; this evening he would forget the events that unfolded, and allow for him to fall back into his most prized role: daddy.

Morning came, with the most glorious sound waking Edgar from his slumber. The sound of his children's feet pitter pattering down the hall with a homemade breakfast Jules helped them create. Following her niece and nephew into Edgar's room, she helped hoist the children onto his bed, as they were far too short to make it up on their own. Junior brought in the orange juice while Elsa brought in some toast. Following closely behind, Jules carried the remaining food on a breakfast tray setting it next to Edgar and his two beautiful children. Smiling towards Edgar, Jules retreated as she heard her brother-in-law become animated with his children as giggles ensued. It certainly was a complete turnaround from the broken down man she let into her home less than 24-hours before.

The breakfast was consumed by all three, filling their stomachs as they now lazily played on the bed, to then take in some early morning cartoons. They seemed to be at ease in Sig and Jules's home, almost too comfortable. Upon later confirmation, it was indeed fact that they felt at home here. Viv often dropped their children off onto Jules while she went to town. Many times the children would stay here, something Edgar didn't know until Elsa commented on "her room". Trying to correct her, it was until she was adamant to show him herself that he found a room set up for his children. It humbled his heart to see his brother and sister-in-law cared enough for his children to welcome them so completely into their home. The only troubling thing to Edgar was that he was completely unaware.

He spent the next two days there with his children before they went back with their mother, who inevitably would drop them off with their grandmother. Before allowing the children back to their home, he managed one last extensive game of hide and go seek on the back acres of Sig's property. It was a gorgeous morning during this first week of April; it was at moments like this, watching his children from afar that his heart swelled with possibilities and hope. Many times growing up Edgar felt liked a weighted punching balloon, where swing after swing, he'd pop right back up, ready for more. Certain things he would forever be a glutton to the consequential pains, but he started doubting whether Viv was one of those anymore. His life could be how he needed it to be, just like this, right now – and Viv was nowhere around. Suddenly Elsa snuck up behind him, successfully outing his spot that was used the night before as a makeshift fort. Together they ran up on Junior, startling him and causing a fit of hysterical laughter. For the first time in a long time, Edgar could feel his heart smiling.

* * *

An odd commodity for Edgar was a cell phone. While it served a purpose for many, three-quarters of the year of service it was unusable for him. A satellite phone aboard the Northwestern was their means of connection back home, so being back on dry land and trying to work a touch screen phone proved to be quite annoying. Dropped calls, texting, Bluetooth, droids… beyond his realm of care or concern; he simply was happiest when the phone would ring and he could press talk to speak. Looking at the screen it flashed across a number best thought to be Sig's personal cell number. Edgar didn't even make the effort to catalogue his contacts, rather he opted to keep the numbers as is and save time by avoiding the hassle of navigating his phone. Promptly answering it, he heard from his brother, the same brother that worked as captain that booted him off nearly two weeks ago.

"You hanging in there?" was Sig's version of a hello.

"Yeah, you?"

"yeah."

The brothers could talk with the best of them, or they could remain mysterious and closed off like your typical introvert. It was good for Edgar's psyche to hear from his brother- his boss - the captain, to know that no bridges were burned. Sig was known for losing his mind at sea a time or two, staying up for days on end without a break, finding that place between REM and Insomnia that only Bering Sea fishermen really knew about. A friend off another boat, Mike Fortner was king of sleeping on his feet, while still auto-programmed to sort and go about his business. It's a strange phenomenon; sleep deprivation can force the body to do wonders.

"We've got that taping," Sig announced "same deal, different location, show up, don't be late, drink, and go. Have off till you need, but your ass better be back in fall," he noted, hearing his brothers assured reply.

Jotting down the address of some local place in town, Edgar had one last commitment for the Discovery team before he could retreat into himself and manage to figure what he was to do with his life here in Seattle.

* * *

Arriving to Daniel's Broiler off of Leschi Marina, it was a location Emh had never seen before. It was also her first time seeing Puget Sound after all the time she had read up on it and dreamed about it, there it was, right in front of her. Darlington gave her little time to take in the sights and sounds, as a dry run was to start in a little over an hour and Darlington still hadn't met up with Mike Rowe. Mike was the emcee of the show, a voiceover for the narration of the story told of these men and their deadliest catch. It all held Emh's interest, but so did the gorgeous view. In the few weeks she had been in Seattle, she hadn't taken in many of the bays or marinas.

The drive over the concrete floating Memorial Bridge, gave a glorious view of marinas and eateries; her excitement was palpable and Darlington assumed why. He was wrong, however. A few fishermen and some famous emcee barely held a candle to her more primary interest: the scenery. "It's gorgeous here Darl," she stated emphatically.

"Yeah, yeah... mountains, water, trees, pretty…" he stated, almost listing them off with everything but zeal. Darlington grew up in beautiful places and constantly surrounded himself by beautiful people, perhaps this, Emh considered, is why he seemed so uninterested. "Wait till you see the blonde beauty, the rough Alaskan or the gorgeous Rowe" he murmured to himself, sighing only briefly in that dreamy-sense. Seemed Darlington had a bit of a crush.

"You do go here to work, right?" Emh spouted off, laughing as she broke his concentration, assuming he was visualizing some less than kosher scenarios.

"For your information," he barked, "I am fabulous. I make these men that are already diamonds just a bit more sparkly".

The brows furrowed on Darlington's face as he seemed to perplex even himself with that statement. "Well, you get what I mean," he said, breaking the concentrated look on his face with signs of laughter spreading across. The car erupted into a frenzy of laughter as they swore to behave more professionally- or aloof in Emh's case, once in sight of these supposedly gorgeous guys.

Driving up Lakeside Avenue, the further north they drove, it turned into Lake Washington Avenue; Emh knew they must be close. She had overheard a conversation of Darlington's when he spoke to the producer, to stay on Lakeside until they reached Lake Washington, and from there they'd have only a few minutes to their destination. In the pit of her stomach Emh felt butterflies. Not one to fall victim to anticipation jitters, the feeling was welcomed and a bit alarming, she hadn't a clue what to expect.

Double parking his A3, Darlington ran in to see where production needed him, before he ran back and took off a bit farther down the block. "We're meeting Mr. Rowe down here," he pointed towards what looked like a street identical to the one they're on. Rounding down and turning right onto Howell Place, production rented out a property that was for sale as a prepping stage for the captain's and a home base for the crew. Filming would take place at Daniel's Broiler behind Howell Place right on Lake Washington Avenue. Daniel's Broiler was a small, quaint and charming old boathouse turned into a diners dream. While sticking with a traditional menu of steak and seafood, any foodie could find contentment in a revolving menu and instantly feel a member of a vessel with nautical elements at every turn.

"Right here I guess," Darlington mentioned, breaking the silence that befell the car, both their necks craned to take in the sight of the mansions suddenly overtaking the view of the bay. "Good Christ," he spoke, reverence escaping him as his jaw fell agape. "They certainly have an amazing scout," he reiterated, putting the car in park, eyes not leaving the sight before him.

Among a sea of crew trucks and cars, you would never have known the entirety of Howell Place was all up for sale. No home was occupied; a steep 4.5+ million dollar price tag was surely the culprit. The two got out of the car and headed for a winding driveway that sloped down to the stoop of a sizeable mansion. Greeted at the door before a seconds wait, Darlington was embraced in a hug by one very nice, tall drink of water. "Darlington, there you are, we've been waiting," he laughed, slapping Darl on the arm with a rather heavy hand. "Who's this with you today?"

"This is Emh, a transplant from the Midwest just getting to know the ropes of the job. Keith, Emh, Emh, Keith." Keith was the producer of the "After the Catch" television show that butted up to the end of a seasons' worth of the show Deadliest Catch. Keith had a wedding band, unfortunately, but was still easily a gorgeous, barely-over-30 man that brought a little pink hue to her cheeks.

'_Keep it together you nit wit' _she cursed to herself, it had been awhile since Emh was graced with the presence of a very attractive man. "Nice to meet you Keith," Emh smiled, noting the firm grip in his handshake and the unwillingness to break eye contact as their names were formally exchanged.

"Right this way," he stated, ushering both Emh and Darlington into the grand entrance of this estate. Upon finding their way in a maze of rooms, a voice that most certainly had to be the emcee rang through the house. The baritone voice had perfect annunciation, no hint of an accent, and a likeable tone, so as Emh turned the corner to see who exactly projected such a sound, a crooked smile quickly spread as she frantically found Darlington's eyes and tried projecting a "holy shit" telepathically. Darlington's smirk assured her he could read her clear as day. '_Hot damn,'_ Emh thought, '_Mister Rowe, how do you do?'_


	5. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **First I would like to thank a Canadian reader of mine who set up a blog for this story. Between chapter updates, you can now take a look at **diemsiobhan[dot]wordpress[dot]com** for teasers, and what I think is pretty neat, a peak inside the brain of this story with actual visuals. There's one entry posted so far that has the exterior views of Sig and Edgar's home, as well as Daniel's Broiler off of Lake Washington in Seattle. If it is received well, I will maintain it. This chapter today is the longest to date, it covers a lot of ground, so lets hope it doesn't lose you or your interest in the process. This was a fun write. I also enjoy corresponding with all of you that have written in. **Fantastic news for fellow Cornelia Marie fans! **The boys will keep their share of the boat! Cornelia has decided not to sell out, so the boys keep their share of ownership! What else could I possibly say to top that fabulous news? As always_..in no way, shape or form is this a true story. All crew from the Deadliest Catch (eg: Northwestern, Cornelia Marie, Time Bandit, etc) are the rightful owners of trademark and registered publishing for their specific namesakes. I make no claims of ownership; I am just a writer, doing what I love._

Edgar forced himself away from his children as he got into his car and drove away; his send off was a lingering hug from Junior. He was heading back determined to face the truth, to take a good look at some hard questions and the even more elusive, impossible answers. He knew it was time, this was long overdue. Forcing yourself to take a step back and analyze your life, especially the daunting tast of accepting where you are wrong is not the easiest thing to do. Especially when you're from a family that boasts on self-confidence and perfectionism. It would be hard to watch the microscope narrow in on the areas where he has failed.

His Tahoe was at his disposal, he now had a way to get around town without calling attention to himself. His SUV would blend in among the cars throughout Seattle; he knew he could get in a drive to calm his thoughts before he made the final stretch back to his property where he would hold up. The taping for "After the Catch" wasn't for another two weeks giving him plenty of time to sort out some issues that were desperate to be addressed.

Elsa and Junior were under the watchful eye of Viv's mother and father. Not one to lack noting credit when it's due, Vivia's parents were everything grandparents ought to be. While Viv had siblings, these were the only grandchildren for Gwendolyn and Arthur. Edgar saw and appreciated how they were such admiring and doting grandparents. They made it seem that even a place like the Louvre wouldn't be special enough for his children; to the grandparents these two children were more precious than any diamond or pearls, Elsa and Junior were their world. The fact that his in-laws were amazing with his children lightened the load Edgar was carrying in his mind. It helped alleviate some of the pressure, but where one part was relieved another dozen were plagued.

It felt awkward to be back in Seattle under the circumstances that he was. Usually by now, he would be off to some other state or foreign land with Viv, watching her shop till her heart was content, as he exhausted his body even more. There was no genuine break for Edgar, away from the time with his children he was always on the go. So this, the very idea he was driving with no true destination or time frame was a bit absurd. He could look in any which direction and not see a wave crashing or an endless sea of blue. He felt he should be bouncing to and fro with his children, but he wasn't. It was eating at him that he purposefully and tactfully removed himself from enjoying the splendors of their company, but he knew he wasn't in a place yet to deal with everything head on. He couldn't stand the thought of looking into his children's eyes and deceiving them. Though young, they both deserved a father who was readily available for them, to take life on in any direction it took, with a clear head, an open heart and a ready spirit. He felt anything less would be failing them.

Taking an alternate route, he approached his home from the east. Eventually climbing the familiar hill, back to Kayak Lake, he was here to clear his head. Plans were to take to the lake. One would scoff at the idea of a man who spent most of his life on water, only to return to it so fast, but this was entirely different. Retreating to his property line after parking his car in the garage, Edgar walked down to a rather vast but private beach. Dotting the shoreline were varying boats and water toys abound. Off to the side, kept underneath a sun cover was his 17' Whitehall row boat. This was a gift dating back nearly 30 years from his father; it is a prized possession that Edgar kept pristine.

One wet entry later, Edgar found the rhythm of the oars and soon set a steady pace as he toured the lake, letting all his cares subside for just this once. For a moment in time, it was just Edgar with memories of his father floating around in his head. This exact row boat was one they often used together after it was gifted to him in his youth. Carefully, he maneuvered this lake taking in the picturesque setting surrounding him. It had been years since Edgar took to anywhere alone, but this was a first since the death of his father, where he was allowed to be alone with his thoughts. Almost too perfectly, a bald eagle circled high above, and Edgar's heart grew heavy wondering if it wasn't his dad looking on. Gently, Edgar started to converse with his father, asking rhetorical questions, subtle statements, and a profession of the absence he felt now that he was gone.

That same bald eagle kept watch over Edgar in the sky, as the cool waters made little swirls each time the oar took another dip; Edgar propelled the row boat in a careless zigzag pattern, and felt a peaceful contentment sway him. Approaching a bend in the lake, he came around the pseudo-peninsula to discover a kayak a few yards up from the water's edge. For the many times Edgar and his family utilized this property throughout the summer months, they were the only ones to ever make use of the lake. Could this be then, that someone else here now has an interest in water sports?

Pulling in the oars, he set them aside and made quick work to stabilize his midsection in the center of the boat. Keeping balance, he made careful movements to lie flat on his back. Situating himself with some strategically placed items, Edgar was comfortable enough to lie here, allowing the waves to push him further along the lake. Edgar stayed here, watching every so often the bald eagle circling over head, with a backdrop of a vivid blue sky. No background noise could be distinguished, no loud noises, just a few birds in the distance and the sound of the brush moving from what Edgar could only assume was a deer. Making no effort to check and see if his assumption was right, he just stared out into the blue, letting his imagination soar whenever a cloud passed his line of vision. The sky acted as his blank canvas, and the slow rocking motion of the boat soothed his cares.

Fascinated by the unexpected companion for the day on the lake, it brought to mind the old adage of the seagulls out at sea. Fishermen often say it's the spirits of the fallen fishermen, and as Edgar saw the gorgeous bird soar high above, he almost wondered if it weren't his old man trying to bring a sense of calm over the storm Edgar was starting to face. _'I could watch this all day'_ Edgar thought to himself.

Thinking back to the days as a child and growing up in such a tight knit family, Edgar adored his father. Being the youngest of the three, he often felt he was his father's favorite. Always protected under this wing, Edgar faced tough but true love from him. Sverre Hansen was a true-blooded fishermen; he learned from his father who learned from his, and did his best to instill the work ethic that one could stand up for and be proud of. Of the three siblings, Norman was most like their father. Sverre was not a very sociable man, often he kept to himself, but his words were riddled with years of wisdom and experience. It was times like this that if his father were still around, he could say but a few sentences and Edgar would know just what to do.

Feeling the sense of tranquility overwhelm his senses, he made one last peaceful offering to his father and sat up in the row boat. By looking at the placement in the sky, and the low rumble in his stomach, Edgar knew he had been out here for quite some time. Akin to ignoring the growling, years of working the Northwestern trained his eating habits, (like it or not) to a meal a day, Edgar headed back to his quiet, peaceful property.

* * *

Having left the property for one reason, Edgar came back at peace for a totally different one. A space in him was cleared and a sense of contentment washed over a part of him that had been ignored for far too long. It has been four-years since the passing of Sverre and neither of his siblings ever brought up his death. He was still talked about in present terms, but finally Edgar was able to make his personal peace with the death of his father. Still not one to deal with emotional issues straight out, Edgar found it easier to deal with others problems than his own. His father was a topic he could handle, because despite being his dad, it still wasn't his personal life that mixed in children and a wife and a life that was his that was falling apart.

Trying his best to avoid a kneejerk reaction of back burning everything, Edgar retreated inside the home to forcibly make himself take one of the issues head on. On this last trip, before docking and being booted from the boat, Norman came to him and in a moment very rare for the quiet, soft-spoken Hansen, he gave Edgar a piece of advice. "It _takes a certain kind of person to keep feelings quiet like I do_," he recalled Norman telling him. "_Now I may not know what you're going through, but we're kin. And I know you won't share your shortcomings, but you've got to deal with them_," echoed through Edgars head "_so instead of knocking me for it, just try writing it out. You can get more clarity that way, than from the words of twice as many people. Just try it_," Norman explained, sending off his brother with a slap on the back, emphasizing the words he just spoke.

The idea of Edgar keeping a journal was absurd. This was something that he and the crew often teased Norman for doing. But could it really hurt? Would this actually serve any sort of purpose? Searching around the home, Edgar turned up a tablet and found a pen. He pulled up a chair and turned on a light to the right of him. Opening it to the first blank page, Edgar stared. Twilight fell upon the quiet lakeside home and Edgar still remained in the same position, a blank tablet without a trace of a single effort. The curtains had yet to be pulled, and the only light on was the one that kept him company since he sat down in the dining room many hours before. Edgar had found a picture tucked into a page of the tablet of him and his family. Any progress that was made on that lake came crashing down as he saw the look in both his and Viv's eyes that told a story far different than the joyful one they were both trying to portray. Somewhere down in the lower level, a bottle of Crown was hidden. The only movement from the effort of coming into the house from the lake was that of trying to locate the whiskey. He was successful, and his liquid courage, after enough, would allow the words to finally spill over and onto his blank slate.

**April 15th.**  
_Words fail to express the emotions I am feeling knowing my worlds are so far apart. I cannot articulate enough the depths of sorrow and regret, shame and anger I hold behind these tired and wrinkling eyes. I saw myself in the mirror today almost as if it were the first time…I don't recognize who I see anymore. As sleep evaded me while out at sea, and as desperate and yearning for slumber my body and mind was, I pictured my wife. She got me through the hell on water, yet back here she creates a fury making me want to run back to the sea I have such a love and hate relationship with. I am lost in my own thoughts and words, any direction I pick won't be the right one. I fear I'm losing myself to myself. I just don't know what to do…_

The chicken scratch was legible enough for Edgar should he ever decide to face the words he wrote again. Somehow it felt good to write something out, maybe Norman was on to something. By the third entry, some days later, Edgar began writing more detailed descriptions of what exactly it was that was haunting his dreams, and terrifying him at sea.

**April 21st.**  
_I woke to another nightmare still triggered by what you told me almost a year ago. You use our children like their pawns in a game only you control. I hadn't been sober for a month before you started up with accusations and threats. It was our worst fight to date; you were driving me to the brink of self-destruction. It's almost as if you like me most when I'm not in the right mind, I don't fight back when I'm in a hazy abyss. You rule the home. You run the show. It's easier to deal with you after a few drinks, than it is when I'm stone sober and being accused of being drunk. How dare you bring our children into whatever sick twisted thing we have in this marriage? How could you threaten the lives of everything I live for, when I couldn't turn around and be there to make sure nothing happened? We had already left Unalaska when you called on the satellite phone to say you had taken something you didn't know what it was and that the children were making you crazy. "All I want is some silence, they won't stop making noise; all I need is quiet. Forgive me for what I do" and then you hung up. I don't think I can forgive you, no matter how hard I try._

That was the last entry Edgar had added for quite some time. Wary to read his own writing, he knew it would give him a rather accurate sense of some of his more deeply rooted issues. If he were being honest though, it wouldn't take long to find the source of most of them. While drinking was not the best answer, he found it allowed for the words to flow, Norman was right- this was quite cathartic. He contemplated doing entries, several times over, before he actually took to the tablet and had something worth saying. Even being here alone he felt a sense of shame and humiliation for taking to a blank piece of paper as a way of therapy. But it was getting him somewhere.

**April 28th.**  
_Separation mends my heart, but how long before I break it again? I miss my children, I miss the wife I once had, I miss feeling like I understand my own identity. This solitude has beckoned me into the places I am refusing to go. I cannot take another dip into the life that once was acceptable; I need to be more accountable. I refuse to have children that can call their father a wash-up. I need to make my father proud, show my brothers I can overcome these things; deep down I feel they expect me to fail, as if their anticipation of my demise in some way is strength to keep going. I've become cynical questioning my brothers like I am. I know I've gone deep into the alcoholic stupor when I start putting them under fire. I cannot help it though; my crass behavior comes out when I'm grabbing at straws. It is another one of my weaknesses; under emotional pressure I cave into a black hole of sarcasm, self-destruction and predictability._

Finding no truer words than his own, it was after a week away from writing that he decided to sit down and reread the words he had jotted down. He could tell where he began drinking, the legibility of the words became impossibly hard to distinguish, but he knew the words; they were etched into his heart and recited in his head. He cringed as he opened up the tablet. There he sat, the evening of the May the 4th, a drink in his hand and the tablet mocking him. Entry 1, he read it slowly. Anticipating a flood of emotions to ring out, he was surprised to feel absolutely nothing. Entry 2, the beating of his heart started to accelerate as he approached the apex of the letter. Feeling breathless to see his own words written before him, it felt like it quickly became an outer body experience. He remembered only half of what he had written. The good thing about his taste for Crown Royal... it was letting him write; the bad thing? It was also making him forget.

The last entry was from **April 30th**. It simply read:

_"I'm ready"_

Looking at the glass that still had a few shots left in it, Edgar gripped it more firmly, then released it. The purple velvet bag housed the bottle that had a few inches left in it. It was taunting him. "No" he shouted out, grabbing the glass, the bottle too and heading outside to the concrete patio. With an unlit cigarette perched on his lips, he took a look at the bottle. He held it up toasting the sky then shattered the bottle on the ground. And in true Northwestern fashion, he lit his cigarette, dropped the match to the concrete and watched the alcohol go up in a blaze of glory.

Returning inside after the flame quickly burned out, Edgar returned to that same tablet.

**May 4th.**  
_I'm trying. I'm renewing my lease on life._

Quickly approaching was the date for filming "After the Catch" - Edgar wanted to be in better spirits when he saw his brother, the Captain again. It dawned on him several times that the new found self and self-actualization was only part of the solution. He knew back home where nothing was settled that he would still face an unpleasant reality. Being in a better place, with time to think his actions through very thoroughly and meticulously, Edgar knew the time and place to handle Viv was nearing on the horizon.

The following morning, waking to a beautiful May sunrise, while out on a jog, he was surprised to see that the home he had approved of appeared to be occupied. There was a car in the drive way and there appeared to be lights on inside. Craning his neck best he could to try and get a view while still maintaining his pace, he saw little else. On his way back, maybe he'd "_walk by"_ he thought, or maybe even stop on in? He was curious and hopeful that perhaps someone may actually live in this beautiful development.

Hours later, Edgar hopped from the shower with the question of who was in that new home occupying his mind. When he had walked past earlier, while finishing up his jog, the car was gone. Stopping for a quick gander, he was convinced it was occupied; "_they don't stage homes like that" _he said to himself, certain there was someone new in town. Making every excuse in the book to go outside, short of setting up camp in the grass, Edgar was determined to meet the new owner…

* * *

Darlington laughed at Emh as her eyes searched Mike Rowe up and down as he turned to greet Darl. "I love this guy," he laughed, patting Darlington's back in a quick embrace. Albeit brief, during the exchange Darlington's expression was one of pure comedy. "The guy makes me look good. Gotta love that," Mike joked, turning back to Emh. "So what do you do?"

She looked to Darl briefly then back to Mike "not real sure yet. Just along to see what Darl does, I guess."

"I see," Mike said, the vibrato in his baritone voice sending shivers down her spine. Mike truly was a handsome man, but easily 20-years older.

"Looks like it's just a location point today," Darlington overheard being told to him from the room down the hall. "We want to get them in and out by noon, we'll use the sunrise as a backdrop. We're going for a different feel to the show this time around. We'll just do voice over and filler pieces with Mike today".

"That'll be fine," Darlington yelled back to the mystery voice that called out the orders.

Emh looked at Darlington and stated quietly "so what do this all mean?"

"It means you get to spend lots of time watching me make an ass out of myself doing voiceovers and pieces on location today." Mike laughed, slapping her arm like she was just another one of his buddies. "Hope you're not afraid of heights, they've got us scouted for some pretty amazing locations today."

"Oh wonderful," Darlington laughed, heights weren't his cup of tea.

Emh seemed the contrary of Darlington, looking eager, bright eyed and bushy tailed when she saw Mike was talking to her and not at her. "We'll get the Northwestern's piece done first then spend a fair amount of time with the Cornelia Marie" Mike was instructed.

"Northwester? Cornelia Marie?" Emh asked, looking to Darlington and then Mike

"It's the Northwestern, not the Northwester" Darlington laughed. This exchange caused Mike to look at Emh with a bit of disbelief, but before he was able to make a comment, Darlington stopped him.

"Yes, you heard right," Darlington laughed, noting that Mike looked at him now with the same amazement. "She's probably the only girl in this state that hasn't a clue what you, me, Sig, Edgar, Phil, Johnathan do."

"Well you don't do anything, Darlington" Mike laughed, "Is he serious? You have no idea what we do or who these guys are?"

"Not the slightest," she blushed. "Edgar, huh… funny, is that a common name up here? I just met my neighbor the other day and his name was an Edgar, never before had I met an Edgar..."

"Uh, not that I'm aware of" Darlington remarked, with Mike nodding along. "It's a Norwegian name, and there are a lot of them out this way, so perhaps?"

"huh..." she retorted, eager to follow along on the day's events.

Later in the evening, after the wrap for Mike's day of recording, he offered to take out the crew on his dime. For such a generous offer, only a handful actually accepted. Naturally, Darlington and Emh decided to go. They ended up just a stone's throw down the road from Daniel's Broiler, at the Bluwater Bistro. Mike and the production kept it an early night, they would all have an early call at 4am, Emh included if she wanted to meet the captains and crew from the show. Producers felt that a dawn version of "After the Catch" was a way to liven up what has otherwise been deemed a rather "visually defected" show. Apparently showing fishermen in a dark bar, with hazy views from habitual chain smokers, doesn't make for good television.

Conversations up and down the bar rail varied as often as a new drink was ordered. Conversations of Captain Harris's health scare, a pulmonary embolism, brought a heavy feel to the conversation. "What a season," Mike remarked, "from Phil, to the Northwestern," he said, sighing heavily "to think Andy and Johnathan had the least drama"; the crew with all shared a hearty laugh, Darlington included, to a joke or concept Emh clearly was not privy to.

Quizzically, Emh stated simply "what is usually wrong with Andy or Johnathan?"

The hysteria grew.

"Frat boys," one production crew member shouted.

"What isn't wrong with them?" another spoke out.

Darling giggled, a pitch that became higher and higher. Clearly the drinking made the question so funny – it had to, didn't it? Were these guys really that full of…

"They're brothers," Mike answered, finally with a real answer. "And they blow lots of shit up." Emh's stare fixated on Mike as he kept spilling the details. "They like to consider themselves the pirates of the Bering Sea," he tried to say with as serious of a tone as he could.

"Or the cowboys of the Bering Sea in the case of Andy," Keith interjected.

"Oh God, that's right" Mike laughed "God love 'em"

"Emh, three words: ten. gallon. hat." Darlington tried saying between giggles.

"He wears a cowboy hat?" Emh questioned, trying to visualize a crab fishermen donning a huge cowboy hat.

"Yeah, we've got shots of him in the wheelhouse, windows frozen to all hell, with him, a blow dryer and this big white cowboy hat – it's all we could see. Talk about a great shot," Keith shook his head thinking back to the memory. "After he finally defrosted the window enough, it looked like a scene out of 'The Shining'.

"Here's Andy," Mike busted out, still laughing

"No joke," Keith laughed, "funniest thing, what he defrosted of the window perfectly framed his face and the outline of the cowboy hat still managed to tromp the view"

"Keith," Mike shouted, wiping his eyes after such a long strained laugh, "you need to add that piece to this year's show"

"You know buddy," he remarked, slapping Mike's back – "I think we just might."

As the night progressed and conversations kept flowing, Darlington grew tired and Emh was sore on her feet. After both tried to pay their tabs on several accounts, Mike assured it was taken care of. With a gracious thank you, they parted from the Bluwater Bistro.

Finding their way back, navigating the streets to where Darlington had parked his car down by the mansions off of Howell, their idled conversation waned to the point of extinction. By the time the A3 came into view, their tired feet and minds just wanted to head home.

Driving down, and back onto the floating Memorial Bridge, Darlington looked over to a droopy-eyed Emh. "Say, honey?" he asked breaking the silence in the car, "you mentioned an Edgar."

Emh looked from under her heavy eyes and replied a lazy "yes,"

"Who is he?"

"Just a neighbor, I didn't mention that did I? Seems like he's a real nice guy, he's in a home a few doors down from me."

"Oh," Darlington said, sounding a touch deflated

"Oh you dummy. No, I don't have a guy I didn't tell you about. He is a quiet one, yet seems to have a lot to say. He has this crazy energy about him. Like he has these like amazing stories to tell, yet keeps them bottled up. At least, that's my impression anyway"

Darlington took note of how suddenly eager and alive Emh managed to seem, when seconds before she was nearly asleep. Asking the holy grail of a question, "have feelings for him?"

Emh laughed, "hardly!" Looking to see that Darlington was satisfied she could clearly see he would press for more information. "A neighbor, Darlington, and nothing more, he's just a neighbor."

Now certainly wasn't the time to go into detail about the man who happened into her life that May 6th morning. It had not been that long ago. A couple of days at the most…

* * *

Surprised that a hangover didn't creep up on her after a Mardi Gras with Darlington, a morning lake tour was in order. Slipping into the kayak, a beautiful sunrise showing its face, springtime in Monroe was turning out to be better than Emh could have imagined. Instant lake access was something she dreamed of, without having to fight traffic or go into the city; here she had her own piece of heaven backed up by her home.

After a rookie exit and soaked pants, a shower and some coffee would renew her spirits in no time. Emh opted to brew coffee as she hopped into the steamy shower, making quick work of it since she had taken a long drawn out one prior to the outing with Darlington. Dressed down in jeans and a tank, layered by a zip up hoodie, the aroma of captain's gourmet, an apparent Seattle best coffee, filled the room. Going about the day, still disgusted that half her Ikea furniture lay abandoned in boxes, she was determined to nail down a date and time when Thomas could help her out. Turns out she couldn't put together just about anything, more like _almost_ anything. Except for those two boxes that stay in that very corner, taunting her and mocking her inabilities to properly work half the tools it took the piece it all together.

A few minutes to 8, an unexpected knock came. Looking around as if to try and affirm that she heard the sound with another person, Emh approached the door with caution. Peaking out the peephole, first glance was a man, scruffy in appearance, light blonde hair speckled with salt and pepper that stood at her door staring straight at the peep hole. '_That's kinda creepy_,' she thought, with slight amusement. Back home in Minnesota, if you were out in the country it is not uncommon to live with your doors unlocked, and trust in your fellow man. But here, she hadn't gotten a memo about any rampant axe murderers hiding in the woods, so to open a door to a perfect stranger did not appear to be too threatening. Realizing she was standing here for a bit of time, the knock again startled her and Emh replied _"just a minute"_ in an auto response.

The man backed away a few steps as she turned the handle and opened the door. "I'm Edgar," the man said, "you new in town? I think we're neighbors."


	6. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: **Another first for The Drifting Anchor, a chapter with over 7'000 words. It's a fast read though, a lot of dialogue from Edgar. There's a twist coming up in the story, so hang tight! Make sure to keep checking out** diemsiobhan[dot]wordpress[dot]com **for your Drifting Anchor teasers and photo blogs. A friendly welcome to the new readers from the UK. I won't keep you long, get comfy and enjoy! Always remember _..in no way, shape or form is this a true story. All crew from the Deadliest Catch (eg: Northwestern, Cornelia Marie, Time Bandit, etc) are the rightful owners of trademark and registered publishing for their specific namesakes. I make no claims of ownership; I am just a writer, doing what I love._

A smile sprawled across his weather-worn face, and his gentle but kind eyes assured Emh he wasn't Seattle's latest serial killer. "Yes I am," Emh noted, a happy grin meeting his own, "come in, please". Feeling a new found spring in her step, Edgar walked past her not sure of what to expect. "I like what you've done to the place so far," wasn't exactly the response Emh had anticipated.

"I beg your pardon?"

Edgar was caught red handed.

Without a second to pass, he didn't miss a beat. "I'm big into carpentry and purchasing property," he said, "I took a tour through all the new homes on this lake and I really liked the design of this one."

"Oh," Emh replied, quite surprised at not only his admission, but the fact that what he said was most likely the whole and complete truth. Being used to the antics of the "I-can-see-when-you're-lying" Darlington, you know, the type who _always_ seems to have something fantastic happen when he's around? Yeah, this was a breath of fresh air. Emh stood, sizing up her neighbor, realizing he had a certain kind of blunt truth palpating from him; it felt like just enough of a counter balance to even out Darlington's extremes. So far this first impression made Emh happy to know he would become a regular in her daily life.

Pulling her away from her endless thoughts about the neighbor before her, his voice broke all concentration; "I'm sorry, that probably sounded creepy," he laughed, making his way farther into the home.

"Not really," Emh was not one to ever really candy coat things "you were far creepier when you were staring down my peephole".

Edgar took a second to process what Emh said. With a moments passing, he then let out a belly laugh. "I can already tell we're going to get along just fine..."

* * *

Not certain why, but thoughts were nagging at Edgar about how if he was going to stop over and approach a new neighbor that he should at least come with some kind of housewarming gift. Debating the idea of bringing over some of his latest catch, Edgar devised a plan much better in his mind. If someone were in fact occupying this home, he would have them over to dinner for some of his world famous Norwegian cooking.

Standing at the door, feeling a bit nervous for some reason, Edgar knocked on the door, and then stood in a nervous stance staring down the peephole. Focusing on the center of the door and the little framed circle amid the sea of cedar, he was taken aback by who answered the door. Peering behind her, looking to see if maybe anyone else were there, Edgar jumped to conclusions that here, this woman who answered the door, could not be living deep in these woods alone. Bedding down the feelings of asking if her folks were home, he blurted out a ridiculous sounding "I think we're neighbors," then quickly passed through as soon as she offered.

"Smooth Edgar," he laughed to himself, startled by the actualization that this home was in far different shape than he assumed. Passing by the young woman, he assumed there would be some frills inside, something gaudy, perhaps a bit tacky? Or at least in the very sense, with extreme high end 'crap' that he often saw littering the walls and rooms of his home back in Fall City. But as he looked around... nothing. Few personal effects peppered the room; very much a woodsy theme, almost cabin-like; nothing was overdone. As shocking as it was for Edgar to admit this, 'I wouldn't mind any of this in my place,' he thought, - a startling truth coming from someone as opinionated and hard to appease with aesthetics as Edgar.

Smelling a wonderful aroma of coffee, something he drinks as much on the vessel as off, Edgar had to chuckle when she offered him a cup of coffee, seeing Captain Phil's Captain's Gourmet staring him down in the corner of her kitchen. Apparently unaware that he was a part of that show, or maybe she was oblivious to there being a show, Edgar gladly took the cup of Midnight Sunrise, despite the fact that Phil's face was staring him down. Hearing Phil laughing his contagious laugh, Edgar had to admit it, this was quite tasty.

One thing became apparent right away, this woman was definitely not from around here. Had he just walked up to any other house it seems in this state, they would have known who he was. Her reaction, this nameless girl, was priceless. 'She looked at me like I might've been a murderer' he laughed, realizing he probably needed to say something in effort to avoid freaking out the poor girl, thinking she let in a laughing lunatic.

Noticing boxes she had lined up in the corner of the living room, it drew Edgar in. He grew even more excited when two things came into view, one: "assembly required" and two that they appeared to be from IKEA. Up till now, she was being kind and making conversation but it was after Edgar questioned about the boxes that the conversation started to flow more organically.

"What do you have here?"

"Oh, just some stuff that is really irritating the hell out of me," she said, looking to Edgar then at the boxes with both a look and sound of contempt. "I'm hoping my brother comes through town again, normally I can do just about any of those things, but I guess not."

In just that bit of a statement, Edgar started to piece together a puzzle he was becoming more and more interested in. 'That was her brother,' he thought, 'visiting...no wonder they had state plates, she's an out of state gal'

"I can do it for you," Edgar offered, wondering if she'd say yes. Most, as Edgar has witnessed, often say "no, that's okay, don't trouble yourself" or some variation. Edgar secretly hoped she'd say yes, a small chance, but he had been itching to get his hands back into a labor of love, and there was nothing more enjoyable than building furniture.

Not knowing what to expect from her, this girl clearly was about throwing curve balls. She jumped at the chance. "If it's a serious offer," she stopped, eyeing him "I would love that. I could make you and your family dinner for your trouble," she said, looking to him, nodding down to his wedding band. A flood of emotions hit Edgar at once, from a panic of 'what am I doing here' to 'its okay, she doesn't know anything, don't blame her, don't run... '

'Just calm down,' he thought to himself 'it was a harmless offer,' he clearly had to work on his reactions, but surprising even himself he replied 'No need, I love doing this - it's no bother, really'.

"But I insist," she replied, "or if that was too forward, let me bake some cookies or something as repayment. I'm quite a good baker, can bake anything, really... and I haven't a clue when Thomas will be back in town. It'd be nice to actually have a living room."

"Is Thomas your brother?" he asked, looking up briefly to the girl holding a coffee cup, leaning on a counter, staring down half zoning at him.

"Yes, he's a businessman. Does some international traveling but mostly domestic. Every once in awhile he'll come through Seattle for a stop with one of his clients. They never keep him very long. Funny though, I'll most likely end up seeing him more now that I'm gone, than I did when we lived an hour from each other."

"Strange how things happen like that," he responded, so very eager to rip the box open and start assembling. "When would you like me to do this?" he asked, hands running over the smooth box top, just begging to be opened.

"When do you have time?"

Edgar scoffed. 'When do I have time? Well, the next four months look pretty good,' he said, sarcastically to himself before replying more cordially "I'm not exactly busy right now, pretty opened for awhile actually," he paused, looking to her, asking the same.

"I haven't found real gainful employment yet. I met this one person, who still, until you, was the only person I have really talked to since I came here, and he's convinced he can get me a position with his work. I'm skeptical, I think he's the type to let his mouth do more talking than he can really back up with action, if I'm being completely honest."

"What's he do?"

"Good question"

They both shared a laugh, as Edgar prompted again "so, are you busy today or would you like me to work on this now?"

"I hadn't really any plans. So yeah, I already got my morning workout in, damn water, you'd think after years of kayaking that I wouldn't still fall in," she laughed, standing from her leaning position to pour some more coffee. "Care for a refill?"

Nodding, she brought the pot to Edgar and poured till it neared the rim. "You kayak, huh? I've never done that, but I do own a canoe and a rowboat. Is it very hard?"

"You're asking someone who has done this for easily 15 years and still makes wet exits?" She laughed, noting "but no, it's not that difficult. Your core is worked out pretty well, so is your butt. It's all a balancing act so you don't flip. Then again, rolling is fun if you're skilled enough. You should try it sometime. Feel free to use my kayak if you want."

"I'll take you up on that offer. I've wanted to do it, but my kids aren't old enough and the wife isn't interested," he said, realizing that he opened up to a complete stranger on the fact that he has kids and a wife. "Say," He mentioned "after all this, I don't recall your name."

"It's Emh," she replied, "Emhilese, kind of odd, but I have strange parents, and don't even attempt my last name, it's Czech" she sighed, shaking her head.

"Em-hil-eese?"

"Yes, hence why I go by Emh"

"That's not bad, what is your last name? I think I could handle it; I'm Norwegian, our last names get tricky."

"Bastyr" Emh laughed, "it has been hacked, misspelled, mispronounced about as many ways you could think possible."

"Can I take a stab?"

"Sure," she laughed, looking at him in amusement

"b-u-s-t-e-e-s-h"

"Yeah, no. B-a-s-t-y-r"

"Emhilese Bastyr," he thought to himself "that's a pretty name," he said out loud.

"Thank you. And yours?"

Here was a moment of conflict for Edgar. Was this girl liable to Google him? Would she flail and say "Oh My God, its Edgar!" but figuring if she hadn't flailed yet, she wasn't about to, he opted for the truth. No sense in lying. "Edgar. Edgar Hansen."

"You are Norwegian!" Emh laughed, "You're the first Edgar I know." She paused, contemplative, "Have any family close by or are you a drifter like me?"

"I'm kind of like a drifting anchor, really." He said, looking to Emh to see if her face fell in confusion as so many have before when he's used his term. "I drift, I wander; I have a part of me that should really have lived a nomadic lifestyle. But then there's the other part of me that is anchored in by my obligations and family history. I'm a fisherman at sea, who loves the open world before me, yet I wonder about other ways I could have lived my life. Which is why as soon as I'm on land, I start to putter around and find myself drifting away into other things and lives. 8 months out of the year, I fish, the other 4 I'm lost in a different kind of sea."

"That's actually quite poetic, Edgar" Emh noted, having taken seat across from Edgar. She had to note that he was looking like an eager child Christmas morning with his eyes on the prize, just waiting to piece together this gigantic puzzle. His eyes were still fixated on her boxed furniture.

"Yeah well I have this brother of mine that says I should write out things and feelings. It's kind of a therapy for me; I'm going through some rough times right now with certain things and yeah... I'm just babbling. Where's your tool box?"

Feeling the whiplash from such a topic switch, Emh got up and reached behind the boxes for a big tool box full of things, as well as a Dewalt screw gun he might need. His eyes smiled as she handed him the two bulky items. Edgar had a bias for really clean tools, versus ones that often showcased its wear and tear. So when the screw gun had not even been opened, somewhere deep inside Edgar a little squeal escaped.

* * *

Sitting across from Edgar on the floor, knee deep in directions, loose screws and a lunch Emh stopped to make for the both of them; Edgar had been here with Emh for several hours already. Losing track of time in his company seemed easy. While Emh sat enjoying the mid-day with her new neighbor, little did she know the kind of conversation Edgar was keeping up in his own mind…

* * *

Words from his brother swirled through his head. He never knew Norman was so prolific, here this gentle and quiet soul held so many ways to contend with problems, unforeseen circumstances and so many ways to get by. He thought he knew his brother, but it became apparent the more Edgar used Norman's suggestions as a crutch, that Norman was a brilliant man far more in tune with emotions that Edgar never knew.

No one had ever doubted Edgar's relationship with Viv; they all welcomed her into the family. Even Sverre liked her when she first started to come around. His brother's girlfriends that came and went liked her too, and finally when Jules came along, she seemed receptive and cordial to Viv. Norman, however, remained skeptical, convinced Viv would pull the old bait and switch, but he supported his brother as best he could.

Upon the first marital blow up, Edgar fled to Sig's to cool down. As news like this tends to spread like wildfire among family, Norman eventually found out. From that point on, Norman became a sort of confidant for Edgar and a close bond developed between the two brothers. No one was the wiser.

Words from conversations as recent as the last few weeks to years ago flooded his mind as he struggled to sort out everything in the confinements of his mind. Here he was in a stranger's home, building furniture, with a friendly face that offered no known drama at the time, and yet once again, he was consumed with thoughts that plagued his head. "What am I doing here? I am avoiding my problems, I ran away from them…"

He could feel a shift in his mood and he knew he didn't need to take it out on this innocent neighbor. But she offered him something that no one else he knew could. A set of ears, a completely unbiased opinion and complete and total privacy; she wouldn't know anyone he spoke of. She wouldn't know a soul to tell, nor would anyone believe her even if she turned around and told the world. Edgar was a fisherman, therefore he was a gambler. It was unlike him to reveal any intimate details of his life to anyone; it was still hard to open up completely to his brother, his own kin. So why now, was this idea flittering around in his head so tempting? What was it about this woman here that made him feel he could trust her, and further more why was he willing to open up the dams to someone such as this stranger he was helping build furniture with, on her living room floor?

Knowing if he debated it any further, he'd get cold feet, yet he still hadn't fully gotten a read of her enough to see whether she could handle all his drama. What would she think of a lonely man with marital issues coming to cry on her unfamiliar shoulder? Why her? If she only knew who he was, would she use this against him? There were too many questions unanswered that made this a bad idea, Edgar knew it. But his life was stalling. The story of his life need not be littered with a cycle of the same drama, the same unanswered questions and predictability which is what the last 15 years could have been classified as. What he has lived, he wanted in the past. He wanted a future without the blurry haze of alcohol; he wanted to like the idea of remembering, of having times worth revisiting, instead of this same ground hogs day he has been living for far too long.

But was this too much to put onto someone so unassuming and innocent in all this as she was? She looked too young to know of the drama life could bring forth, too bright eyed and bushy tailed, too green to have even the slightest comprehension how shitty life could be. Was it really his place to open her eyes to the disappointments life can bring?

She stared at him now in wonderment as his skilled hands started to make quick work of the foundation for what would later hold her television and collection of movies and music. "You look like you have a lot on your mind?" She said to him, as if she had some sort of ability to penetrate his thoughts, giving him a perfect way to segue his personal thoughts into an actual conversation.

"You could say that," he said, nervous butterflies now tickling his senses as he felt his boldness start to waver.

"I'm a good listener," she said looking to his eyes briefly before breaking eye contact. "I probably can't relate exactly, but I can tell you things haven't been easy for me. You never know where another person has been, unless you walk down their road with them while they recant experiences to you. It can help," she said, "I left it all behind in Minnesota, I came here to start over," she trailed off, promptly dropping the conversation.

An hour later, lunch dishes done, Edgar stood looking proud at the unit he put together in less than 3 hours. It was a multi-layered, rich cedar, stained and distressed, keeping up with the woodsy feel. It was pushed flush against the wall, and now stood out because it was empty. The television and all the unit was to hold was off the main living room, in a spare bedroom. Another few minutes went by and Edgar brought in all the boxes instructed by Emh that would fill the new unit. Her excitement after completion caught Edgar off guard as she excitedly gave him a hug and did a brief 'jumpy dance' as Edgar would later refer. It seemed to not even phase Emh, but Edgar stiffened as a board at the contact with her.

Sitting back and looking at his handy work, he felt a sense of accomplishment. "What's the other piece?"

"Considering how quick of work it took you for this, the other one might not be so bad."

"Well, what is it?"

"I don't know if you call it a hutch or a cabinet, but it is for storing china and dishes and stuff in it. I was going to have it over here," she said, using her hands to frame out an area over to the right of the kitchen. "I haven't picked out a dining room set yet, but I'm still browsing. I wanted to keep with the rich, distressed woods, so until I do, it'll just be this hutch if it ever gets assembled."

"Well, let's get to it," he said, reaching for the box cutter and making little work of getting the box unfastened.

As Edgar shifted from the middle of the living room, to the edge of where the carpet met the hardwoods, Emh alphabetized her DVD collection much to the amusement of Edgar. "Those things never stay in that order, you know…" he remarked over his shoulder.

"I know, but at least it gives me something to do for now. When I moved these, I just kind of threw them in a box, no order, bet you half of these are empty cases," she snickered, knowing fair well she was right.

"So you say that you ran from Minnesota?"

"No, I didn't run, I just left. Stopped, needed a new beginning, a fresh start."

"How come?"

"How about quid pro quo, Edgar?"

He hesitated for a moment, appearing deep in thought. A heavy sigh marked his response, "alright."

* * *

Edgar agreed to it, albeit chanting in his head "stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" …he knew he had to start somewhere, and the journaling was just the beginning. Talking it out by doing what Norman suggested, and journaling to himself, he knew he had to push even further if he ever wanted a resolve.

Emh sat, now in arms reach of Edgar, shifting uncomfortably not certain she wanted to go down this road so soon. Seeing though that he had a lot to share in his own right, perhaps this would somehow benefit them by doing this. If nothing else, at least she would go down in a blaze of glory.

"Ladies first," Edgar said, looking over to her as he continued working on the hutch. He braced himself for the first, most likely loaded question.

"Why are you here and your family isn't?" Emh asked

"Looking after a rental property," he said, realizing he was being deceitful. Pausing briefly, he stalled, "Avoiding my problems," he finally recanted, "My family is up in Fall City, about an hour drive north of here. I retreat here when things get rough back there."

"Fair enough, your turn…"

"Same question."

"I got tired of living in a bubble of predictability. It dawned on me one morning that this really is a one-shot deal. Life gives you many opportunities, but no one forces you to take them. More often, people try to dissuade you from them. I had a very dysfunctional family; they're toxic and self-deprecating, it got old. I was placed in the middle of a turbulent marriage where I was paying for their mistakes and issues. I literally said "fuck this" and left."

"Wow," Edgar said all eyes now on her, a look both of amazement and even a glint of envy.

"Why do you seem so closed off? Even now, your body language, your appearance is closed off."

Edgar shifted at her words, but could feel the tension coursing through his body. It was a posture he was used to, though his body ached to relax. "I'm not good at this. I'd blame it on my distant Norwegian blood, but really it was just how we were raised. Fishermen are a tough breed, weakness and any signs of emotion show you're not strong. I've had a lot to live up to, my brother is a Captain, so was my father, my other brother has the brains and proof from college that he's a brilliant engineer, I had to tough it out and work my way up in life. Nothing came easy, even affection and love as a child. You earned it. It's just how I am…"

"Why are you so far into the woods, why not some hip urban place more suited for your age?"

"I'm an old soul, Edgar. I'm not typical for a 25-year-old; I have very little interest with those of my age. I'm an avid outdoorswoman, I love the water, and I love my privacy and appreciate those who respect that. I had no set destination in mind, I knew my budget, I hopped online and I browsed. It led me here. I loved Minnesota, it had everything I loved about the outdoors, but so many problems were just under the surface there. I could be anywhere there, and somehow, something would drudge up old issues, or memories, and then things would come crashing down. I had no choice, if I didn't want to have constant reminders of things I'd rather forget, I'd have to leave. But I always loved the north shore, the north woods, anything that felt like I was camping. For now, this is like I'm home, without the drama."

"Edgar, what would it take for you to be happy?"

He laughed, shook his head and then sighed. Initially, he shrugged. He looked to her, his eyes sad, then avoided her eyes and began fussing around with the furniture before him. "I don't know if I can be, Emh" shaking his head, feeling his tongue become heavy and his jaw flex, exhaling a breath as if he were holding it in all this while "my son and daughter make me happy in a way only a child could. But I just don't know. I love my wife, but she has done so much damage over the years and throughout our courtship that I can't seem to see past it. I'm struggling day to day wondering if she and I can make it through this. I wonder if she even wants to see us through this. Frankly, I don't know if I want to see us through it. It's like days when I'm out drifting at sea, working tirelessly and days on end, trying to make quota, she would be the only thing to get me through those grueling hours. Seeing her face, picturing her holding our children, her laugh…" he stopped, thinking to a moment, reminiscing of days when things were better, "she had this amazing laugh that was a mixture of such a cute sound and an adorable smile". Edgar paused, realizing at that moment that the levee had been broken.

"Viv and I had this whirlwind romance," he smiled, clearly remembering a time when things were new and exciting. "She was this gorgeous woman, who had no idea of her own beauty. She was shy at first, but broke out into this unpredictable, always interesting, intelligent woman. She was familiar with what my family did, her own family had fishermen throughout its history, but she was more of a free bird. Her father Arthur and mother Gwendolyn were almost hippies, very much free spirits, and while their daughter were a lot alike them, Viv also had a rebellious streak. I think that's why she was with me in the beginning; I wasn't what their daughter was supposed to be with. We fishermen have bad reputations," he laughed, realizing he hadn't spoken this much to someone non-family in a very, very long time. "But nevertheless, we had an amazing friendship that turned into a relationship; that led to marriage and babies. Something changed though, before our children came around, but definitely after they were born, it's like she became someone totally different."

Emh sat more comfortably on the couch, now able to withstand any length of conversation, compared to the hard floor she was on. Patting the seat next to her, Edgar kept talking as he made his way to the couch. Initially sitting on the edge, head down, and hands folded between his legs, he kept talking.

"I've often tried taking the blame, I put her through hell, I've been dealing with addiction back and forth, on and off since I was 19. Before I was with her, when we were just friends, I was using recreationally some pretty hard stuff, but when she became a constant in my life, I left that lifestyle behind. But I could never quite kick the thirst for the liquor." He paused, scooting back on the couch, while Emh faced his side, watching intently, "up in Unalaska, when we off load or need to dock, there's nothing to do but drink, have sex with the few women up there, or get high. I've never cheated on my wife, ever; I gave up the drugs when I was still dumb enough to consider it, so I drink. When I say we all do, we all get ridiculously drunk up there. You're so far from home, it's usually cold, so drinking makes it all better," he laughed, realizing how ridiculous it sounded. "But I can sober up, and I have, so many times, but she always tells me I'm drunk when I'm not, that I'm doing drugs when I haven't touched them for years, or that I'm sleeping with women when it is the farthest thing from the truth. I often have told Norman that she's easier to handle being drunk, and proving her right, then being sober and accused of being drunk."

Emh's face, as Edgar every so often would refer to, kept eye contact and didn't break it even if he stared. "I also told him that's what happens when you are completely honest with your wife; it just gave her more ammunition. I don't think she's ever forgiven me, but at the same time, she never voiced anything to me. Before our children were around, I recall vividly when I left for a long trip, was going to be gone for 2 months, she saw me off, and everything was fine. When we came back into dock, she wasn't there. She'd always been there to see me back along with the other families. I was terrified something was wrong, but I hadn't a reason to think otherwise, so I hurried home. I came back to a stranger is what it felt like, honestly."

For a moment, after he replayed that scenario in his head over and over, a stark realization washed over him, something up until this very moment he had never considered, "You know," he said, voice unexpectedly choking as he came to a sort of epiphany, "maybe she's been cheating?"

Emh could see the man before her coming undone right before her eyes. Knowing if she didn't interject immediately things for him could go from bad to worse, she did the only thing she knew, she comforted him. "Edgar, don't go to that conclusion. You don't know. Maybe the time away just got to her, or maybe she was in the early stages of pregnancy where her hormones were all out of whack, don't assume it's something as horrible as another guy. Is Viv someone you'd ever see capable of infidelity?"

His blank stare out to her carpet, showcased a shade of gray that washed over his face. Shaking his head no, he had yet to blink as Emh was convinced at the words she continued to speak were falling on deaf ears. "Edgar," she punctuated with a poke to his shoulder, "you can't assume the worst."

Feeling terrible that she had provoked this quid pro quo, she tried valiantly to switch the subjects, but much to her chagrin, Edgar seemed to freeze in place. Clearly his head was still trying to make correlations, he was playing a mental game of connect the dots, trying to see if a picture would come into focus.

"So then what, Edgar, keep going," Emh pushed.

"She started saying how she wouldn't become a lap dog and show up like all the rest. She was happy to see me, but didn't need to welcome me with all 'the usual pomp', it was just unnecessary to her. Her husband was home, but until I was inside that door, she couldn't care less."

"How was she afterwards? Was she a total night and day difference?"

"It seemed to affect her more that trip, it was an especially rough season with a vessel having gone down. That always rattles the families waiting back home, but the coast guard keeps them all in touch; no one was lost on that trip. She was upset and had made mention of it. She said it gets lonely living where we were at the time, so I asked her where she'd like to live. I gave her a budget and told her to find her dream home. That kept her happy and appeased her for a few seasons. She kept busy with designing things, purchasing things for the new home, and essentially squandering away fists full of money. But it didn't last, then, she wanted vacations. It was an endless game of "keep Viv happy," whenever I was gone, I knew I'd come back to a laundry list of wants. It was a price I paid to keep her happy and to make me sleep a little easier at night knowing even if I was an absent husband somehow I was still a good one."

Edgar shifted on the couch, now facing Emh, as his legs stretch out on the couch, an arm resting on the back, now propping his head up. He looked directly at her, realizing he kept talking about himself, breaking their quid pro quo. Apologizing, Emh waved her hand, "you've reached a point I don't think you've been to before, Edgar, I'm not about to stop you when I think you've just begun."

Nodding, he continued, "After the birth of our daughter, following closely then by the birth of our son, she appeared at first to have a knack at being a mother. She seemed to tap into a maternity side of her and was a doting and devoted mother. But it started to slide off after we named our son after me. She argued tooth and nail, claiming it was too archaic to name my son after me, but I was determined and 'won' out. It was predetermined that our first born son would carry my name from well before we were married and a child was just a glimmer in our eyes. I missed his birth, I was out at sea and couldn't get back and I think that's another thing she holds against me." He said, a tone turning bitter. "I wouldn't have missed it if there had been any possible way to get there in time. I was miserable knowing she was there with our son, having gone through labor without me there, having to rely on my brother's wife to care for our daughter as her parents were there to welcome our son. I've given up a lot to this job and sea that I don't even know if I like anymore."

"Have you considered quitting?"

Normally this question always provoked a bad reaction from Edgar. Anyone knows you can't simply quit a family business, just like that. It's not as easy as a snap of a finger or a clicking of one's heels. "I have," he responded, delicate not to sound harsh, though he had to bite back his initial retort. "I always come back. I scream, I yell, I bitch, I chew him out, I rip him a new one, yet I'm always back at the beginning of the next season. I have over 20-years invested into this, I can't just walk away." He sighed, running his hands through his hair, realizing that it must be approaching evening from where the sun was in relation to the sky. "I just have a big mess on my hands, is what it is. Because I haven't even gotten to the suicidal, homicidal rage she threw at me one time when I was out floating around in the Alaskan sea waters…"

Emh reaction was as one would expect from that little bomb he just dropped. Jaw agape she stared intently at Edgar urging him to go on. "Well, that pretty much sums up what happened. Last year she gave a call just as our king crab season started. That can be a long or short season, depending on the luck, but as we were heading out from harbor, she called our satellite phone. She told me she had taken a prescription pill for migraine's she gets, but thought she took too many or had accidentally mixed. Her tone did not match her words, she was deliberately playing dumb, and Viv was very conscientious of what she put into her body. But not this time, she said she didn't know what to take, that the kids were too loud. She just wanted sleep. She just wanted quiet and to forgive her for what she was going to do. She then hung up and could not be reached."

"Holy shit," Emh gasped, eyes widened and now more intensely focus on him.

"I was terrified that entire trip that I would come home and see my kids dead at the hands of my wife. By the time Coast Guards could have been called to get me out of there, we had already fortunately reached our quota. I left the ship to the rest of the guys, caught a flight out of Alaska to Seattle to find the kids and Viv alright, as she played it off as just me twisting her words. Since then, I haven't been the same towards her. She holds a lot against me, but from that moment, everything has changed. Work has changed, home life has changed and consequently, I have too."

"Edgar… that's pretty intense. How have you kept this all bottled up?"

"Why do you think I have such a horrific drinking problem?"

"My God Edgar, you can't live with all of this on your shoulders and yours alone…"

"Well I have," Edgar said, suddenly and unexpectedly standing, heading toward her kitchen. He leaned against the counter, staring out to the wall on the other side of the home. He looked sickly and lost, yet as Emh began to understand, underneath it all, there still was a volatile man, broken and torn, who was in desperate need of someone to help, or listen, or just be there for him. Not certain as to why he chose her to relieve all this out and onto, something in Emh told her this was a unique scenario, and to treat it like glass. This situation was delicate, anyone could see that.

Bridging the gap between them, Emh leaned up against the counter next to him, letting him know she was still right there, and listening. The way they both were standing appeared to have them both at the same height, and it was now that Emh got a good close up to see how weathered and tired Edgar's face was. And in one very uncharacteristic move for Edgar, he bent his head, and rested it on her shoulder.

* * *

Standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, Edgar's head felt heavy on Emh's shoulder. If only she had a clue just how uncharacteristic this was for Edgar. Reaching her hand up and around, she patted his cheek gently, feeling the scruff hit her soft hands. "You need to continue, Edgar, you have to get it all off your chest."

Standing upright, Edgar responded by lifting his head and being surprised as Emh grabbed his hand and led him back to the oversized couch they had called home for the last few hours. "Sit," she instructed, as Edgar plopped down, a very morose and melancholy mood overwhelming him. "Keep going".

Mustering up the energy to keep venting, not realizing the toll it would take to expel all of these negative thoughts, he took a deep breath and started back up. "Our latest blow up takes the cake; she actually struck me on the face. It was the first time one of our fights had become physical. I've been very angry before in our arguments, but I always left to cool down. But this time, I had just walked in the door and she slapped the shit out of me. I had fucked up on the boat because my head was back here. I constantly worry when I'm not with my children, that she'll do something to them. It was less than a year ago that she made that threat, so going back to those waters now, has that image and thought haunting my every minute while I'm on that vessel. I failed to do my job properly; I was messing up at the rail which is a position that requires you to be alert, quick and on your game. I wasn't any of that. As we got to off loading, I freaked out, screamed at the crew and left. I went and got really drunk, then flew back here. That's when she slapped me, and now, here I am. In a stranger's home, pouring my heart out like a little bitch, and at a loss of what to do with my life."

With that, Edgar put his head back on the back of the couch and was looking straight to the ceiling. His body language went from tense, to becoming one with the sofa. He looked like the mirror image of defeat. "Well," Emh said, "You've started on the right track," she said, patting his arm, reassuring him. Unlike the prior contact, he didn't tense or shy away. He wasn't reacting, he simply was there, numb and perhaps even in a bit of shock that he had just admitted everything he did, to someone that wasn't family. Emh realized the amount of trust that he had just invested into her. His story wasn't overwhelming though, not in the least. There were still ways to repair this, she thought, first thing though is to discern if he wants it fixed. Looking at the gentlemen to her side, a mixture of emotions were radiating from him.

"How do you feel after all of that? I gather this has definitely been a new experience for you," she said, trying to approach the subject gently.

"Like a weight has been lifted and like I really want a drink."

"I'm glad you feel a little lighter, Edgar, and sorry, but no booze."

He nodded his head "yeah, no I wouldn't anyway. I'm trying to swear it off for good," he reasoned, trying to convince him he didn't want a swig of whiskey. A few moments passed, Edgar still staring at the ceiling, when he made movements and lurched forward, at the edge of the couch, staring at the mess of wood and pieces scattering the floor.

"That hutch won't build itself," he said.

And in true Edgar fashion, he quickly retreated into his quiet thoughts, as Emh watched the hutch begin to take form.


	7. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **Hi folks! So this chapter has been edited, re-edited, chopped and redone about a million times. But in jest, this actually benefits us all. There will be another chapter as a result, before next week. This chapter grew to over 14'000 characters, but for the sake of you guys, I decided to break it up into more than 1 entry. I wanted to make sure I didn't give a feeling of whiplash after you read this. The heaviness of the story starts to break after this chapter, this isn't a complete work of emotion and angst, promise. With that, _in no way, shape or form is this a true story. All crew from the Deadliest Catch (eg: Northwestern, Cornelia Marie, Time Bandit, etc) are the rightful owners of trademark and registered publishing for their specific namesakes. I make no claims of ownership; I am just a writer, doing what I love._

* * *

"…_what started as a whisper_

slowly turned into a scream.

Searching for an answer

when the question is unseen.

I don't know where you came from

and I don't know where you've gone.

Old friends become old strangers

Between the darkness and the dawn…"

-Amen Omen

-  
A cool draft waged a thermal war inside Emh's home; Edgar began building a fire, the first in her new home. A silence between the two had fallen over their conversation as he finished her hutch without speaking another word. A knowing silence and contentment with what was said allocated time to process things before either would speak again.

There was a nurturing instinct bubbling to the surface for Emh as she caught side glimpses at Edgar. He was quiet; his eyes told her everything he wasn't willing to vocalize. She understood that he was facing far more trying times than he knew how to deal with; Edgar was the sensitive type who masked it in a tough exterior… the worst way.

A fire now burning bright, afternoon turning to night; a beautifully built hutch was off in the background. Emh saw Edgar kneeling before the fire; he offered a silent prayer for clarity, then turning his attention to the flames as they danced, casting beautiful shadows.

Emh sought refuge on an overstuffed chair that faced the fire her neighbor had built. He had said he would build Emh the fire and then retreat to his home for the evening. Emh secretly wished he would stay, his company, even for as heavy as the conversations were, was welcomed. She was wrapped in a red velvet blanket, too stubborn to turn the heat on, watching as Edgar returned to the sofa he had spent a goodly amount of time on. Few words had been exchanged since his revelations of all his trials and tribulations, though they paled in comparison to the conversations they had at length.

Looking to Emh and smirking at the sight of her, you would think she were in the middle of the Arctic. "Aren't you supposed to be immune to the cold weather, Minnesota?" he grinned, poking fun.

His moods had been shifting in front of her every few minutes or so, someone less informed would wonder at a hint of mania. Edgar, though, was in his right to be jumpy with his moods. His revelations and life to this point made for every emotion he had, to range with great validity. "I've lived a hundred lifetimes in a day, but I die a little in every breath that I take," he quoted to her. Melancholy won; Edgar's weighted shoulders sank and he hung his head. "I want this to be better, I want to fix my life Emh," he said barely above a whisper. Straining so hard to hear, Emh wasn't sure she even heard him right.

"Your family can help you, can't they?" she was at a loss as to what she could say.

"Not when they've made up a part of the problem. I love them, do not get me wrong. We've grown closer and our bonds tighter after our mother's cancer battle, and our fathers passing, but they're very much a part of where my problems are…"

Before she could even answer, he continued "Sig is the captain of our father's boat. Sig is my oldest brother, he's hard as stone, and the best at what he does, but is part of the issue. Norman, who is one of the most intellectually sound people I know, is also a crew member too. Sig's wife Jules at one point was friends with my wife. The only other friends I have are either other crew members on our vessel, or others in the business, or others in production…"

Stopping himself short of saying "from the show," he didn't want to go down that road just yet. But the point was clear, "my only associates and friends are all involved in this trade. This business has been everything I eat, sleep and breathe. And even away from my job, it follows me home, because my wife constantly reminds me of the fact of what I do, how dangerous it is. Work follows me everywhere I go…"

"Except here. Frankly Edgar," Emh interjected, "it's only in our discussions now, because you're allowing it. You could have said you're a bagger at a grocery store and left it at that. But I understand your need to vocalize all of this. I understand, I am an outlet and a willing participant in your life, but I haven't a slight clue about your profession"

"And that is exactly what I need right now. I need a way to have someone to throw this all out to, and then help sort and piece together. I'm sorry I made it be you without your permission…"

"What are neighbors for?" She smiled, seeing a little life come back to Edgar.

"You're not upset? What I wouldn't give to have just a minute in your head to hear what you think of all this…"

"You don't need a minute in my head. I have a bad habit of being blunt. If blunt is what you want, I can give it straight."

"Please."

"I see an incredibly lost individual who wants his head and heart to be in the right place, but hasn't a clue how to navigate it to that safe place. You're a man of pride, duty and obligation, dying for a sense of self and freedom again, or maybe for the first time. I haven't decided. I think life happened, and for a great while you weren't even aware that it was moving all around you. It sounds like for 9 months of the year, your life is put on hold. That only 3 or 4 months of the year are you allowed to live and even then, that living hasn't been the greatest…"

Edgar looked on in amazement. She was able to vocalize thoughts he's kept so deep inside, after only a day of being around him. She was articulating words he wasn't able to form, and thoughts he was convinced no one would understand. He didn't know how to feel about having someone understand him so fully, or at the very least, understand what he was trying so hard, for so long to convey.

"You appear to desperately want that uniformed lifestyle, the one that typically follows suit once you have a wife and children. It just hasn't happened yet. But the biggest contending problem here, Edgar, you don't live for yourself. You live to satiate others, you put your loyalty to your brother, your family business, your wife's needs before your very own and in the mix, you've burned out and lost who you are."

Edgar stared at her. Here, this young girl, balled up and wrapped in a blanket, told it straight to him without apology… and managed to hit the very last detail straight on the head. Clearly her age did not inhibit her ability for wisdom and insight.

"Was that blunt enough?" She asked a bit spooked to find the answer. She could tell Edgar did have a short fuse in him for some things; she just wasn't sure if being told information about such private manners, so blunt, was something to trigger a quick reaction.

"What can I say to it? You've told me things I've known but never accepted. So what do I do? How do I make sense of this web I managed to weave over such a long period of time? How do I ease up on the sense of obligation and loyalty without causing friction?" The thoughts the danced through his mind, as he began to verbalize his troubles, provoked a million different feelings. The most obvious one, which was also the most frustrating, was thinking of what his crew would say or think; if they knew that the hard-as-stone Edgar was seeking refuge in this young girl, laying his world of problems on the line? A shudder made his skin crawl as he desperately searched for a new thought to consume him.

"Sometimes there has to be friction, Edgar. You're as miserable as you are, not from one individual event or person, but from a culmination of things over a good chunk of your life. It can't all be resolved in a day. It took 20 years to get to this point; it won't all be worked out tomorrow…"

"Where do I even start? Fishing is all I've known. Viv is the mother of my two beautiful children, how do I even get through this?"

"With a support system, with a clear head, and with direction" she stated very matter of fact. "You can't be afraid of ruffling feathers, even if it is family. They will understand if it's for the better for you. It may inconvenience some things in the process, but at the end of the day, they're more concerned with you than their fishing or boat…"

"I don't know about that," Edgar laughed, having a hard time believing that Sig would care more about his issues than catching his red crab quota.

"You're not a lost cause," she said staring directly at him. "Is that what you need to hear, Edgar? This isn't something so backward and tangled that it can't be fixed. You just have to have patience and be proactive _for you._ You'll need to step back and make some adjustments, put the hammer down and take the initiative."

* * *

At the Fall City residence of Edgar and Viv Hansen, Viv sat in her home, deafened by the eerie silence. No pattering of her children's feet could be heard, no giggles, no silly games and no calming voice of a husband she at one time so completely loved. The children were home less than a few hours from their grandparents, before Viv instinctively took them to Sig and Jules'. There once was a time where all Viv could imagine was a partner beside her. Perhaps a child or two, but ultimately a soul mate she could depend on, tell all her deepest secrets to, and know would always be there for her. Edgar was never a conventional choice; he did not fulfill any of these parts in her life the way she longed, the way she wanted, the way she _planned_. His handsome, rugged looks – private yet devoted affection won her over time and time again. Their courtship spanned nearly six years before they settled down and said their "I Do's". There was plenty of time to change her mind before she married Edgar, but the draw was too strong, the pull impossible to ignore.

Despite the money he made, he still was a fisherman. To Viv it was a dirty job, often saturated with brute, crass men and for weeks it would take her Edgar far away from her, leaving her alone to fend for herself. And though she would never admit it to his face, she was embarrassed of his job. Viv was a big driving force behind Edgar agreeing to be a part of the show; to Viv this gave him some credibility and at the very least would give her bragging rights that he was _hers_.

Twirling her wedding ring around her finger, memories from their wedding speckled her thoughts; they began intertwining with others, thinking back to the fun they had while still dating. He was the perfect boyfriend: lots of money, devoted only to her, yet despite the long distance and time away from one another, it gave her total freedom. Her mind was always at peace then, knowing there were no women to tempt him while he was out at sea. The best of both worlds, Viv always had the upper hand.

Somewhere along the line, the money and the reunions grew tired. It was after he proposed that Viv greatly considered her options and what her life would be like with Edgar and without. The promise of a comfortable life, financially, won out. Despite having incredible intelligence of her own, Viv never put to use her brain and received any education beyond high school. Her family never expected her to attend a college, and Viv never was one to work unless absolutely forced. Which again, her parents never really pushed her to do. So when her tastes became expensive and found she had a like for finer things, someone like Edgar could provide the payroll needed to maintain her shoe and designer label addiction. Somewhere between courting and marriage, she fell in love too, she supposed. To Viv though, these feelings were secondary to the perks that otherwise tromped her infatuation with Edgar.

As absurd as it seemed, it wasn't Edgar that started Viv's downward spiral. It was Sig's wife that started her feelings of inadequacy. Jules often gushed about the Hansen men, from her husband to Norman, and of course Edgar. Jules was a scholar, a well-spoken, much liked author for periodicals involving the fishing world. She had connections with the Coast Guard, her husband was the captain of a top earning vessel within a fleet and she had a knack for writing. In other words, she was a success and a threat to Viv's freeloading lifestyle. Where Viv couldn't compete with Jules, she made up in what Jules couldn't have.

Along came Elsa.

Due to complications, a family curse (if you will..) and other ailments, Jules was never able to have children with Sig. She often uses the excuse they "met too late in life", but the actuality was she wasn't able. She had two children from a previous relationship that Sig adopted, but it never filled the void of her inability to share a child with her husband. A hysterectomy took away her dreams; it was a subject too sore to often speak of, and upon hearing this revelation after a heart-to-heart Jules thought she was having, it became Viv's obsession to 'one up' Jules. No one knew Viv's motives, even to this day.

Because of Norman's solo status, Edgar felt it best to make Sig and Jules, Elsa's god parents. It was like rubbing salt into an open wound, but Jules and Sig eagerly accepted. When Junior quickly followed, it was almost too much for Jules to handle, it was her dream to provide Sig with a son that could take on his name and continue the longevity and dreams of the Northwestern.

The joys of having what Jules couldn't wore off rather quickly, though, when Viv realized she had two children, under two, in diapers. Many times Edgar was away, working with the docked vessel, or on another trip; Viv used their children as an excuse as to why she couldn't welcome him back. However, the minute Edgar would arrive home, Viv would disappear and head into town, leaving him with their two children and without even so much as a goodbye. Viv felt trapped; what she got was far more than she bargained for or even far from what she had dreamed. Not that she wanted the Swiss Family Robinson, but to her this felt more like Lord of the Flies.

Worse yet, Viv got no support. Even her closest, most vain and materialistic shopping friends questioned her mothering, going so far as to question how she could feel so unattached to her children. Perhaps, she thought 'if they only knew I didn't want them, but brought them here for spite'. It would definitely make her look worse than she already did. 'Such is life,' she sighed at her thoughts 'this will just be a burden I bear alone.'

There were times that the tickle of mothering and a maternal instinct would hit her, but it was rarely genuine. She was great at faking it for Edgar's sake. She may seem soulless, but she had to continue the façade to continue the lie, to keep the marriage and husband under the illusion that life at home, when he was gone, was a-okay. It was a chain reaction; one lie had to perpetuate the other, to continue another and so on. When Elsa hit two, though, Viv's concern for her children hit rock bottom, and the "physical corrections" began.

Where a normal two-year-old would learn of their world by exploration, verbalizing and drawing their lines in the sand, Viv was all too eager to set Elsa right and put her in her place. Her home has to be kept pristine, a control measure she never wavered and when Elsa dared to take a toy out, she was spanked for doing so without permission. When Elsa dared to be a defiant 2-year-old, it took an act of God to prevent Viv from losing it entirely and avoid spanking her daughter to no return.

The absurd thing of it all, Viv grew up without a hand being raised to her, or a voice much louder than an indoor voice; so for Viv to react and lash out like this? It was coming from no one but her, her own conscious decisions allowed her to smack around their children!

Viv really could become a monster, a side that Edgar rarely saw.

Now alone in this home, Viv began to contemplate if she was being too harsh. If she really wasn't being the wife she could? However, before the thought even started to take on consideration, she began pissing and moaning in her own head about how Edgar wasn't what she thought. No one would be fooled though, Edgar had always laid it all out for her to see, the life he was leading at this very moment, was the life he had been leading the entire time they've known one another. How then, did it take so long for Viv to realize this isn't what she wanted? Fancying the idea of trying it out the way that her role would require, such as a loving wife, a doting mother, MaryfuckingSunshine – but she stopped herself. She knew she couldn't. It wasn't in her to play this out, dragging it out any further than it needed. She would find a way around all of this, it wasn't too late to redeem some of her life and try finding what it was she really needed.

* * *

Edgar and Emh had been in a deep conversation now, bridging morning, afternoon and now the evening. It was fortunate for both that neither one had early commitments the next day. They were in her living room, languidly conversing as the fire was desperately fighting to keep its last flame. "Another log or two?" he asked, looking over his shoulder. By this point, Edgar had stretched out entirely along Emh's sofa, covered by a blanket that only three-quarters of his body benefited from.

"Sure," she smiled from under her blanket, not having moved for quite some time. "I've got some life left in me!"

"Good," he noted, tossing the blankets to the side, standing to retrieve another few logs. As the fire died, smoking heavily, a quick fanning brought the flame back to life, now stronger than ever; appeasing Edgar he promptly returned to his little niche, still warm and inviting.

"You have a lot to offer, Edgar, but that's the problem," Emh said, yawning as she shifted in her chair. "You've offered all you can, far beyond the realm of decency and people keep taking."

He laid there, the couch just a few feet from her, listening intently as his mind soared with thoughts and possibilities. "You know Edgar you make your own way in life. No one said you had to follow the path that was set out for you… you are allowed to take a detour and find your own."

"It's so much easier said than done. I don't even know how to take the first few steps. I'm dependent on the money I make…"

"But that's to maintain the lifestyle that you don't even want, correct?"

"Yes, but I can't just cut my wife off. She'll turn it around and make our children suffer…"

"Promise not to get upset…" Emh interjected

"Just as a note of reference, never say that to a guy. We always put up our defense even before we know why when you preface a statement like that. But go on…"

"Now, just hear me out. I'm only using the given information from our conversations today. So I don't even know if half of these things could even happen, but nevertheless, take your children to Jules. Prearrange it so that during the next season you have, you leave your children with her. Whether that is a week or a few months, from the sounds of it, Jules would be delighted to have them with her. Give Viv temporary walking papers. Give her funds she would need to get by and nothing more. I'm talking enough for accommodations, food and an emergency fund, anything else, she would have to earn or figure out on her own. That time your children are in excellent care, so they're not weighing on your mind. Viv then can go out and see if she can find what she's been looking for, and you can do whatever it is you've been wishing to, but could never find a way to…"

"What purpose does this serve exactly?"

"If you come back from this hiatus, longing for your wife and children, and time at sea loading in pots, then by all means, you've had your questions answered and your fears addressed. Say you two come back and find one's mind has changed while the other wants the opposite. You cross that bridge when you get there, but say you come back and both have the realization that this thing is worth working out. That it's worth fighting for, wouldn't you want to know that? And the thing that makes this even better? Your children remain completely unaffected. It appears they've become accustomed to the back and forth of your home and Jules. So an extended stay albeit a first, would not alarm them or disturb their routines."

As Edgar sat here, listening to Emh's devised plan, he couldn't help but see how what she was offering, would and could make sense. The real question though is would it work? Would Viv go for it?

"All I know is I cannot take this kind of lifestyle anymore. When things get really bad, it kicks up the dust of a past that was settled and gives me the itch to dive head first into my addictive past. I would be on board for this; someone could be called up from previous trips to cover a spot. Norman would be moved up to the rail, Jake could take on some more responsibilities and maybe I could figure my shit out…"

"It can happen if you want it to. You just have to force yourself into spots you've never been in, and willfully piss a few people off. It's more risky not to do this, then to do it and step on a few toes in the process, Edgar."

Little did Edgar know, though, at the same time, on his kitchen counter inside his home, his cell phone was vibrating with a message from Viv. She had given herself her own set of walking papers. She dropped the house keys off to Jules and left in their Expedition. She only took a credit card, her id, and a suitcase full of clothing.

* * *

Looking at the message, tears filling her eyes, she deleted and erased it at least a dozen times before Viv sent her husband the message.

"_Edgar, I do still love you... I just need to find my way. I've lost sight of who I am and of what I want. I know I love you, but I don't know if it's enough. The kids are with Sig and Jules… I will return to you, I'm just unsure of when." _

Tears were streaming her face; Viv's smallest Louis Vuitton bag was packed with the clothing haphazardly, and became a projectile as she threw it into the back of the Expedition. Driving over to Jules, trying her hardest to save face, she handed the keys to her sister-in-law, saying "Edgar will explain".

Fortunately for Viv, both kids were asleep for the night at that time. Sig had come into view as Jules stood at the door, keys in hand, unsure of what she could say to Viv to try in light of this situation, understand what was happening. No words escape either ones lips until Sig shouted out "hey, wait a minute, what's going on?" but it fell on deaf ears as Viv retreated to the SUV and sped away.

Sharing a look of perplexity, Sig and Jules were dumbfounded at the exchange that had just happened. Mouth agape, Sig's forehead wrinkled in confusion as Jules closed the door. Turning to her husband, she clutched at his body, holding him tightly; silently, she thanked whoever was listening, that she had such a healthy marriage.

* * *

Arriving to the SeaTac airport, Viv wasn't sure what she was doing or where she was going. She parked her car in the extended stay lot and walked into the terminal. 8pm wasn't exactly a time the airport was booming, but she went to the closest agent and asked when the next flight out was, and to where. "Alaska, forty minutes," she heard, ringing through her head. Was this a divine intervention, or Mother Nature playing a cruel game? Without hesitation, "I'll take a ticket, please".

xxxx

Meanwhile, back at Emh's place, Edgar unexpectedly and without warning, stood only to quickly head for the door. More than the feelings he was now accustomed to on this bizarre, yet telling day, Edgar felt a sense of urgency- like something was wrong. He looked to a confused and startled Emh who was now sitting up at the chair, wondering what happened. "I can't explain it, I have to go, I'm sorry" and he jutted out the front door back to his place.

xxxx

Standing at the bedroom door of Edgar's children's bedroom, Sig placed a kiss atop his wife's head as they peered in on the sleeping children. These two beautiful children were clueless about the troubles that faced their parents. "Perfectly unaware," Jules said, grasping her husband's hand, "just as it should be" she sighed, "I hope for the sake of these two," Sig hushed, "that they can work out whatever it is that torments them."

xxxx

Left alone in her home, the absence of Edgar was abundantly clear. Emh wouldn't get a single minute of sleep tonight. Instead, she sat in her home, which progressively cooled as the night went on, wondering what it was that she said, for Edgar to take off in such a rush. Feeling as though she spoke too soon, and too out of line for being such newly acquainted people, she rested her head on the arm of her chair, bundled up in a blanket, with a heavy, saddened heart and a mind racing with unanswered questions.


	8. Chapter 7

**Author's Note**: What a week it's been. Since we last spoke, I've had the pleasure of hanging out with Josh, Jake and Ryan from the Cornelia Marie this past Tuesday & Wednesday. Their first hand personal accounts and stories gave me both the chills and a sense of wonderment as I got to hear it coming directly from them. It's a treasured memory that I will keep very closely with me. Since then, I've also managed to catch a bug that's going around here, too much fun on Tuesday & Wednesday I guess, so I've been bad at keeping the promise of another chapter before this one now. Forgive me. This chapter now brings everything current and up to speed, if you feel you get kind of confused, reference chapter 2. After this chapter, I will be highlighting some of my favorite stories I've come across in the author's note portion of my entries. I have two hat tips to come from some awesome authors, and am always looking for more DC reads. Send them my way! With that, lets hope that our fishermens seas be calm and pots be full. Some have already started to head out to the red crab grounds. Jake, Josh and Ryan won't be heading out for another week or so, so safe thoughts and prayers sent their way. With that.. _in no way, shape or form is this a true story. All crew from the Deadliest Catch (eg: Northwestern, Cornelia Marie, Time Bandit, etc) are the rightful owners of trademark and registered publishing for their specific namesakes. I make no claims of ownership; I am just a writer, doing what I love._

* * *

Edgar returned home to find nothing amiss. He felt like an ass running out of Emh's place with little reason, but he wasn't about to try and make sense of something to her, when he didn't understand his own panic. Searching his property, albeit small, he couldn't locate his phone. He did not have a landline on the property, none of his rentals did. The only life line was a cell phone, to which his had mysteriously disappeared. A little red blip acting as a beacon, guided him home to where the cell phone was left; next to the microwave, atop a small counter.

When he looked down to see the familiar number, his stomach dropped. Closing his eyes, feeling the world spinning much too fast, he exhaled and clicked "view message" as his niece taught him.

Before he even read the message, he felt a pang of regret for leaving Emh's so abruptly. Now he wished he hadn't, that he could still be there, blissfully unaware of what he was about to find out, around that calming and mesmerizing fire. As he saw the first few words, he grasped for the counter as his world started to crumble. Everything blurred, and his knee jerk instinct was to wash this news away with a drink until he could feel no more. Reality penetrated his senses and no matter how long a stupor, he knew eventually this would have to be addressed. Craving whiskey, he felt uneasy; he knew his state was volatile as he reread each word with a growing obsession. "_I still love you…."_

Temptation was luring Edgar into the alley of possession; he visualized flying down the road, redlining it to their Fall City home, bursting through the door where he would find Viv inside with a smug grin and a look of 'gotcha'. After seeing she fooled him, he knows he would retreat to a bar and waste his mind on Crown until he couldn't take it. It was a game she so expertly played and he always fell over himself to see it through to the end. Always hopeful, he never once found the pot of gold at the end of his imaginary rainbow. Instead, Viv would greet him with a devilish stare and belittle his futile attempts and childish dreams.

Then, he thought, he could have his shining moment. The reunion just before she departed, begging her to stay and the crash into one another in a loving and telling embrace. All of their "done you wrongs" would be behind them, a kiss sealing another deal between the two of them that things could turn around, that they could overcome this...

Just as those thoughts entered, they were followed by another round of possibilities; perhaps she was gone for good, the kids at his brothers, and he'd never see his wife again. 'She said she'd be back' he thought, wondering if this meant they were still together. Were they on a legitimate "break" though? Would this allow him to fancy another woman? 'God, would I even want that?' Edgar laughed to himself, desperate to find some light to shed on this horrific turn of events. 'Did she want another man?' He thought briefly, before dwelling on it, only stopping to convince himself that it was a true possibility. 'Is that why she did this?' Edgar clearly was inundated and overcome with the news. Slinking down from where he stood, Edgar stared at the message, his back now pressed up to the oven, as his thumb paged up and down reading the message over and over. 'I wonder where she is now,' he thought to himself, sullen by the realization that the text was over an hour old.

In less than a half hour, Edgar went from a safe zone that none could penetrate inside of Emh's home, to a dead zone where he felt everything he ever worked for and so hard to have, just walked away from him for good.

Somehow in such short time, Emh's place felt like a safe harbor, somewhere where he could check his baggage just inside the door for the two of them to piece through at his convenience. Desperate to return and make a great apology for storming out as he did, he secretly wished he could crawl back to her place, tail between his legs, and have her guide him through this latest revelation. Viv had given herself an easy out; she simply walked away. 'Why does it seem every decision she makes, I must pay for?' he sighed, resting his head back into the glass window of the stove.

XxXxX

An hour passed and then another, his old habits staring him straight in the eye as Edgar realized from where he was sitting, a little stretched reach would open up his pantry and in the bottom would be whatever remnants of liquor his house had. He _knew_ something was down there that could curb the pains he felt stabbing him in the chest so strongly. Banging his head back into the stove glass several times, the sound over-exaggerating the actual collision, he reached. There wasn't what he anticipated, but there was a partially full bottle of Smirnoff; something he long forgot was there. Searching the pantry from top to bottom, the sweep of the cabinet turned up the bottle of Smirnoff and a barely touched Bombay Sapphire. The Bombay was for Sig's mixed drinks the few times he made it out to the lake. Despite the haze of hurt and fury, clarity was overcoming Edgar. It would have been entirely too easy to retreat back to his old habits. There was plenty of booze here, enough to get him nice and wasted. "I've taken comfort here too many times," he said aloud, as if to answer the question of those around him dying to ask "are you going to do it?" But the last drunken episode was already one too many. He knew it wouldn't lead him to anywhere he hadn't already been; "and where I've been, I wouldn't want to go back anyhow," he thought. So here, with the two bottles in hand, he poured them down the drain. His house was officially dry.

Turning to drop the bottles in the garbage, Edgar retreated to the sofa in the living room, and sat in the pitch-black house. The skylights above that dotted his ceiling allowed for a view of the starry night, but before he retreated there for the evening he cracked opened the window to rid the house of the alcoholic smell. In exchange, as he plopped on the couch, he had a waft of a fireplace smell envelop his small living room. The scent of the burning wood bringing him right back to Emh's sofa, where hours before he was so blissfully at peace.

* * *

A plethora of senses began invading Viv's instincts; her feelings became blurry and over-stimulated at the titillating idea of a new life. While her marriage seemed to her like that old reliable car, one you could beat the crap out of and would still work, she yearned for that sports car that was shiny and red and what many envied. It wasn't readily apparent to Viv that she was already leading a life that so many would have given anything for.

It did, however, cross her mind that she was heading into Edgar's stomping grounds. For all the years of their marriage, and the years together leading up to their union, she had never once traveled to Alaska to get a glimpse of what his life was like. Assumptions always satiated her curiosity enough to bed down and find some other conspiracy or illusion to believe when it came to his work. They had gone on cruises together, a setting he seemed all too comfortable with. From there in her mind she correlated that with his job. He knew terms, knots, ideas and navigation, all what she assumed his 'little job' entailed when he was gone to sea. For once in her life though, or at least once in the 30-years he had been in her life, Viv thought it best to try and take a serious looking into her husband's cakewalk life. She always felt her job back home with their kids were far more tolling then the few hours he actually has to work, to earn the kind of income he does. It was a point of spite she had with Edgar, finding it difficult to accept the kind of pay he could earn with such little effort. But now, perhaps with a bit of 'alcoholic sobriety', Viv had the edge taken off of her enough to see the error in her ways. She was willing to take this unexpected trip into the depths of Edgar's life, without a preconceived thought allowed to linger. She would go into this experience trying her hardest to willfully gain some perspective into his life. As she shot down her vodka and tonic, a thought did prevail "who knows," she said with a smug grin to herself, "maybe I have been wrong about this".

But in the recesses of her mind, even she knew her attempts were futile. She was going in anticipating her assumptions to all be proven true… but she was going to at least _try._

XxXxXx

Arriving to Ted Stevens International Airport in Anchorage, it was nearing midnight; Viv getting off the airplane, stepped into a world uncharted by her. The airport was near empty, the next flight taking off from here wouldn't be for half a day. She felt exhilarated; the sights and sounds all new to her; Alaska even had a different smell to it than Seattle. A fresh, crisper air tickled her senses; it washed over her and revitalized her despite being so tired from such a draining day. She took an airport shuttle to the closest hotel, the driver recommended the Crowne Plaza, so oft to the Plaza she went. Normally a bit "low grade" for her tastes, the otherwise 3-star hotel was a gorgeous locale and offered every creature comfort she could need.

The front desk clerks would never have guessed as they checked in the bubbly woman, that she had just left her husband and two children, not 6 hours before.

Quickly shifting from the idea of starting over to damage control, Viv was going to put the best foot she had forward, and make some semblance of effort in repairing her marriage. First, and this was quite the epiphany, Viv knew a change had to happen in her before she could help out herself and Edgar. Where one area was fixed, she surmised, the others might fall into place. 'Graciously' taking her hotel room key, a second floor room tucked in the corner of the 6-story hotel offered her a place for the night.

When arriving to the hotel, brochures and pamphlets flooded the entrance and filtered throughout the halls as she made her way to the assigned room. Picking up a few notable pieces that read "Bering Sea" she tossed them aside onto the chest of drawers as she eyed her room up and down. 'It'll do,' she said, crossing the room to peer out the window. Cursing that she didn't grab a lap top, Viv pulled back the sheets and crawled into bed, the brochures quickly becoming the elephant in the room. Finding the remote, she turned the television on and thanked whatever gods that be, that the place had satellite television. Flipping through 30 or so channels, the pamphlets started hounding her; as if they were mocking her, Viv lurched from the bed and grabbed the 'damn things'.

Turning the television and all but the light next to her off, she shuffled through them unsure of which to look at first. "Where Discovery Channel's Deadliest Catch is filmed…" scream out from the cover of one, 'this could be interesting,' she thought, starting with that bright, obnoxious and bold brochure.

The two pages talked of Dutch Harbor, a harbor she was familiar with by name only. 'Captains Cove' seemed like an interesting name, and before Viv even realized it, she had read cover to cover every brochure she picked up that had to do with the Bering Sea. Reaching for the phone, she dialed down to the front desk asking about a location for Internet access. Learning they had two computers just off the main lobby, Viv picked up her key, got herself out of bed and walked down, still fully dressed from her flight an hour earlier.

Googling some website addresses and various names, she saw she was a short plane ride away from Unalaska. Unalaska housed Dutch Harbor and Captains Cove, the places she had just read about. More from a piquing curiosity than anything else, she was determined to take in these places for her own righteous interest. Edgar was a motivation somewhere for her interest in these places, but she enjoyed the thought of not knowing what she was getting into. If these fishermen and crew knew what kind of animosity and high and mighty attitude she had towards their profession, the little port town would run her on a rail as soon as they could. But as always with Viv, she had her own little secrets, and this was one she'd keep closely to her...

XxXxXx

The next morning, having left the lobby only several hours before, Viv confirmed her reservations she had arranged with PenAir. She would head out today to the city of Kodiak, then a day later take the small commuter airline plane to Unalaska. Her mind had drifted to home more than she thought it would, it caused her a restless night and soon she became all too aware that she was chasing down an understanding that could have been done so easily if she had just listened to her husband. Feeling a new sensation, one that most would identify with as 'guilt', she did what she does best and chose to ignore it. Nothing she could do about any of the past now, sighing to herself "I've really fucked this up," for once Viv was carrying a legitimate burden on her shoulders. One that she knew was bona fide and it was brought on by years of animosity, worry, anger, fear, and disgust.

Sightseeing took her to touristy destinations around the south central part of the state. At the recommendation of the hotel staff, she headed to the Alaskan Native Heritage Center and poked around till it was time for lunch. Heading to Whale's Tail nestled inside of the hotel Captain Cook, a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon was nicely paired with her choice of lamb as her lunch entree. 'Dining alone', she thought to herself. She did this so often, as did Jules and the rest of the women who had husbands who were fishermen, but this time it made her uneasy. She realized it was by choice, not because he was away doing another round of fishing. It felt different.

Paying her tab, and walking from the restaurant, she window shopped and enjoyed the breeze coming off of the Lake. Seeing signs for a red trolley ride throughout the town, she paid the $15 fare, and waited for its departure. Alone, in the back, the speaker buzzed with the man's deep voice as he navigated their way throughout scenic Anchorage onto the back roads, giving closer views of the sweeping mountainscape and the beautiful water that surrounds. It was truly a breath taking experience, but it made her feel more alone than she's ever felt.

And then, as sudden as an unexpected gust of wind, it hit her.

She missed him.

* * *

The following morning, not unlike the day she first spent in her home, Emh could barely move. Part of her felt deceived, that the events of yesterday weren't really real. The blanket balled up on the couch and the missing logs told otherwise. A deep pit of remorse was boiling over and an urge to shed a tear was dancing amid other thoughts. Emh felt saddened. She wasn't sure what she could do to rectify the situation, was it even her place to try and make amends?

Stretching and helplessly trying to relax the kink in her neck, Emh made her way to the kitchen for some much needed coffee. Checking her phone as if to see a missed call or text from Edgar, she realized he didn't have her number. Instead, a flood of drunken texts found their way to her inbox from a Darlington about his latest extravagant excursions. "I'll be out all day," she thought to reply, instead "I'm making my way around town to place some resumes, I've got to get a job!"

With that, she opted to ignore the phone all day. Darlington never was one to do well with being ignored, but someone had to teach him he couldn't always get his way, no? Feeling sorry for herself that she blew something way out of proportion for over stepping her means, a pot of coffee and a trip around the lake were in order. Until she heard a car coming down the road. It was an unfamiliar sight and sound.

Watching the blackened out SUV drive towards her neighbor's house, curiosity began killing her. Who was that? Could it be one of those meddling family members? Could it be Viv? Why was she so concerned? The truck pulled in the driveway of Edgar's home, but all too quickly pulled out and headed back from whence it came. "I wonder…" she thought, puzzled.

* * *

"Well, I've tried to get a hold of Edgar this morning, but he has that blasted phone turned off. You think he's out at the lake?" Sig asked, pacing back and forth. He knew his brothers track record, but after seeing Viv, something was unsettling about this whole debacle. "Damn it, I don't deal with this shit," Sig said, pacing back and forth. Sig is a man of authority, of power and most notably, control. When things are out of his hands, a manner which he cannot control, he fights until he can regain order. But this whole Edgar/Viv/children thing was quickly taking on a life of its own.

"Just calm down, sweetheart" Jules said in her warm yet concerned tone. "I'm sure he's still where he said he was going, the home on Lake Kayak."

* * *

Edgar awoke and knew that in two days the filming for Deadliest Catch: After The Catch was to start taping. He tried his hardest to avoid having to show face for it, but contracts kept him on the segment, and he needed to be there to support his captain and the fishing vessel. Trouble is, Edgar is known to wear his emotions on his sleeve and often his face does a good job at representing his moods. It would definitely be an interesting taping.

He longed to return this morning to apologize to Emh. It was a gorgeous spring morning; felt more like a balmy summer day. The weather made it hard to stay in such a sullen, dark mood. Hearing a car on the road, he wasn't about to be surprised if Emh was leaving for the day. 'Such a young girl doesn't need to be cooped up in these woods today,' he imagined, visualizing a girl of her age and zest for life, not being held back by anything. 'She doesn't need to get mixed up in my life,' he thought, opting to play a little self-pity card into the mix.

A cup of coffee in hand, the morning brew was doing a good job at lifting the morning grog that hit him so hard. He stepped out to his deck, a wrap around on the second story, and heard some commotion coming from the water's edge. Coffee cup in tow, Edgar went to check out the source of all the noise. Sounded like people on the water. Yes, people... and even a bark of a dog. This was a too much for Edgar to handle and not investigate. He wanted to see what the fuss was about and his interest was too involved now to turn around and head back inside.

Winding his way around the backyard to the water's edge, his first view did not show anything nor tell any signs of the water being disturbed. Continuing his walk all the way around to his private beach front, across the way he saw Emh, soaked from head to toe, and a black lab bouncing all around her. Chuckling to himself, he stood watching in plain sight as Emh danced around the dog, trying to get away from its hopping and jumping on her, screaming and causing quite the ruckus. As she screamed, the dog began to bark; Edgar couldn't contain his laughter as he shouted out "stop screaming" and then waved his arms towards her flagging her. "He won't bark if you stop screaming Emh" he laughed, realizing it was with little resolve; his flagrant screaming attempts.

Not exactly sure of where the dog came from or why it was that Emh's neon kayak was floating by itself in the middle of the lake, there definitely was a story he was determined to be told. The 50 feet or so of water that separated them looked incredibly chilly despite such a gorgeous morning. The easiest way to get to her would be to swim the distance. The terrain to either side would not allow for a quick run; Edgar was going to have to swim if he wanted to get to her. He sat down in the sand, pushing his coffee cup in far enough to not spill, pulled his slippers off as he still saw the sight in front of him, getting more hysterical by the minute. The lab was all over her, not in an aggressive way, but in a playful sense. He was just extremely zealous and a bit happy to see her, he surmised.

"Emh, I'm coming over," he hollered in a last ditch effort, before stepping into the water. Edgar was a strong swimmer and has taken a dip in this lake, just not in May. The temperature of the water made him swim faster; twenty feet in or so, the kayak belonging to Emh had made its way closer to Edgar's side of the lake. Grabbing the pull at the bow, he towed it in as he reached the shores.

The minute Edgar was standing upright on the waters shore, the dog left Emh alone and pounced towards him, tail moving even faster. He was clearly a friendly dog, who apparently loved Emh and had just as much adoration towards Edgar. He had no collar, no identification whatsoever, and he looked underweight. "She's still a puppy, aren'tcha girl?" Edgar said, getting down to the dogs level, being ambushed by licks and nudges, realizing he was a she. The dog rolled on her side, then, onto her back, kicking her feet wildly as Edgar rubbed her belly.

"You okay there, Emh?" Edgar laughed, looking at a discombobulated, soaked and frazzled young lady in front of him.

"That dog," she said, catching her breath, starting to laugh as the adrenaline kept pumping through her "came out of nowhere." Standing and grabbing her kayak that Edgar so nicely towed in for her, "I was already on the lake, and she came running from the side of my property" Emh pointed, as Edgar half watched, the dog trying adamantly to grab his undivided attention, "she just did a running dive and landed on the kayak deck" she said, assessing if there was anything wrong with the kayak.

"Well, it doesn't look like either one of you are hurt," he said, looking over the dog and then Emh up and down.

"No, she's plenty fine. She created such a shift in balance, though, she rolled me. Then from my best guess, she stayed on top of the overturned kayak as I was underneath it. I had to get out, and then right the kayak. She was swimming along starboard and trying to still lick at me. I just said to hell with it, got on shore where she then started to assault me," Emh laughed, ringing out her hair as he teeth began chattering.

"Where on earth did you come from girl?" Emh said, approaching the dog, who still flailed about. Petting her, as soon as the dog had both their attention, she calmed. "She seems like a sweet dog, but kind of skinny, no?"

Edgar nodded, but suddenly felt strange. He felt happier being around Emh, her calming voice was soothing. He was especially happy to see that she was still talking to him. Edgar couldn't get over the fact that here, she had just been attacked by a wet dog while on her calm lake, and was not screaming profanities nor was she madder than hell. Instead, she laughed it off and showed affection for this cold, wet black lab. A pitter began a pattering in his heart. "This isn't good," he thought to himself.

Responding to Emh, realizing it had been a few moments passing without him answering her, "Yeah, I wonder if she isn't a stray or wasn't dumped off in the mountains somewhere. A lot of people do that to an unwanted litter, unfortunately," Edgar said, watching as the dog leaned heavily into the ear he was scratching.

"Ohhh" Emh cooed, making the dog now crash into her, "how could people do such a thing?" She asked rhetorically, "should I put up fliers about a found dog or what do you think?"

"You could take her to the vet and see if she's chipped, that way if she isn't, you can report her as a found stray and then keep her till someone comes forward." Edgar knew fair well though, people don't come forward for these kinds of dogs. Labs are a dime a dozen, an unfortunate reality. Couple that with their hyperactivity and a missing lab isn't exactly head line news.

Edgar would have loved to take the lab off Emh's hands but the practicality of it was he couldn't. He never could have a dog with Viv, she didn't want to take care of another _thing_ - maybe though, just maybe he could convince Emh to keep it and vicariously have a dog through her?

"What should we name her?"

A childhood Edgar deep inside let out a joyous squee. "I've always wanted a black lab named Raven," he said, eyeing her to see if she'd laugh or not.

"Awe, well, welcome home Raven" she giggled, joyful for a new found companion. "She can be our lake dog Edgar; your kids will love her once she calms down."

A funny kind of pang hit Edgar with that last statement of hers. "Our" for one, gave him a fluttering feeling, and then how casually and happily she brought up his kids. This _really_ wasn't good.

"So it's Raven?" Edgar asked, with the twinkle in his eye of an eager child.

"Raven it is!" Emh smiled, "I'll take her to the vet today," she said, looking to Raven, "and then we'll get you a collar and train you right. Get you out on the lake, too" Emh said, squishing the dog's face as she pet it, Raven clearly eating up every last minute.

"Look at you two, so cute" Edgar laughed, standing up. "Are you going to get changed before you go out anywhere?" Edgar noted. All three, Edgar, Emh and Raven were soaked, dripping wet.

"Yeah, I'll need to get changed, want to come to the vet and store with me? Would be nice to have your company if you'd be up to it."

"How soon before you'll go?"

"Fairly soon, I don't want to let her inside the house and take a shower without her being watched, so I'm not sure."

"Let me go back and grab some clothes to get into. I'll meet you in the front of your place, you can shower and I'll stay with Raven"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, meet you in the front in 10" Edgar said already back in the lake, halfway across to his property line.

"Come on girl," Emh said patting her leg, as they both watched Edgar make sure he made land. Waving them off, he ran, grabbed his coffee and slippers, and was in the house before Emh and Raven headed for their own home. Wrapping along the side from which Raven initially came, they made it to her blacktop driveway. The sun had warmed the blacktop and it felt good against Emh's bare feet. Raven stayed close to Emh without a lead or command, causing a stir of curiosity for Emh; this black lab was already well behaved, aside from the attack of affection. "Girl, do you have a family somewhere?" Emh asked.

Approaching the end of her driveway, Emh sat, and then went to lay back on the warm driveway; the sun slowly drying her soaked clothing. Feeling content, it was just then that Raven stood and shook off. Propping herself up on her elbows, Emh looked to Raven who sat next to her so snugly, and licked her face. "Why did I even bother?" Emh laughed, sitting up, petting her; Raven appeared to be a real sweetheart.

A few minutes later, walking up the driveway, Edgar appeared in a North Face fleece pullover, with the 3/4 zip down, a tee underneath and a pair of track pants. "Run on in Emh, I've got a tennis ball, we'll play as you change" and with that, Emh retreated to the home to tidy up as Edgar began playing fetch with Raven.

* * *

"Don't be a nuisance, Sig. It'll be fine," Norman told his brother over the phone. "I've talked to him; he's not going to do anything stupid. It'll be okay," his younger sibling said, trying to convince his oldest brother…

"We've got that taping, he better show. If not, you've got to be on standby."

"Sig, he'll be there" Norman said with much authority.

"Where is he?"

"He's at the lake house. He has a new neighbor who is oblivious as to who he is, so he's just enjoying the company of a stranger..."

"Huh, well alright," Sig said much to his surprise. "I trust you, Norman, this is just all too weird."

"Not its' not," Norman laughed, hearing Sig respond with a chuckle. "Yeah, that's true"

* * *

Laying down a layer of plastic garbage bags, followed by a few towels and then a blanket, Emh prepared her backseat for Raven's first ride. Having found 'Duvall Veterinary Hospital' in Duvall, it was less than a 20 minute ride down the 203. Looking toward Edgar after he lifted Raven into the back, she asked him "aren't you coming with?"

He hesitated, struggling with the right decision. A flash to Viv and the endless possibilities of what she could be up to, gave him the needed push for him to agree "of course," he said, hopping into the passenger seat, then taking a peak at the directions Emh had jotted down on a napkin.

"Duvall, huh?" he noted, "Just straight down the 203, pretty easy drive. We can go up to the Pet Pros place in Monroe then and get her some stuff."

Looking to the mirror, Emh saw behind her the excited black lab sniffing around the interior and poking her wet nose against the windows. Rolling it down enough for her head to pop out, Raven looked like the epitome of happy dog.

XxXxX

Several hours had passed and Raven was officially the pet of Emh and Edgar. She wasn't chipped before, but now she was; at the pet store, Raven made out like a bandit. Edgar bought a few dozen things for her, including a bed for when she comes to visit. They also picked out a hot pink collar, an outdoor house, though Emh promised her to be an indoor dog, and a lead.

Luckily for Edgar, he didn't run into anyone that "knew" him – he had dodged a bullet for now. He knew with the taping in two days that he would be under fire from his brother and his whole game may be called out on the proverbial carpet. He hadn't a clue what to anticipate, so for now he was going to live in his own personal bubble, where nothing but the here and now mattered.

Raven's day finished off by getting a bath and being groomed; then and only then was she allowed into Emh's home where she made quick work of tearing through the home, checking out all the new sights and smells'. Edgar followed the two in not thinking twice, it was like there was an unspoken open door policy with him, her home was his home. At the very least, there wasn't the impression that he was unwelcomed, though he did ask once inside "mind if I come in for a bit?"

Feeling a might bit puckish, she felt his company was a definite plus from Darlington's. While out doing the shopping for Raven, she noticed the half a dozen replies and texts from Darlington, including several direct tweets to her. The end results; he had something for her to do and a potential job lead. Only catch, she had to get a hold of him right away because it was tomorrow that they would need to meet. Giving a call over to Darlington, she confirmed her receipt of his texts and tweets and agreed to meet him at their coffee shop in Monroe, at 5:30a.

Tonight was to be an early night. Begrudgingly, she had to drop that little note Edgar's way to ensure she would get some sleep and be of some use at such an early hour. Whatever it was, it had to do with Darlington's job and somehow she was going to be useful. She never fully understood exactly what it was he did, despite the fact that he referenced Queer Eye for the Straight Guy and something about being a public relation/hr personnel-turned stylist. "Did I ever tell you the story about the first guy I met here, Edgar?" Emh said while setting down the few purchases she made on the counter.

Turning his head toward her "you made mention of someone, but just briefly referenced him. Why?" He asked, looking interested in what she was about to say.

"Well, I got a message from him while we were out. I guess he has an opportunity for me tomorrow but he needs me out at like 5:30 at the Starbucks in Monroe."

"What's he do?"

"He does some public relation-type work and styling for talent on shows up this way. I hadn't a clue that Seattle had a market for television production or whatever you'd call it. I've never seen such a thing besides the news stations back home," she mentioned, looking through some of the toys Edgar bought Raven.

"What's his name?"

"Darlington Hale. He's a nice guy but so incredibly flamboyant and outlandish sometimes, he's good in small doses but I seem to have a short fuse with him."

Edgar was suddenly lost in deep thought; he had heard this name from somewhere. Was the jig up? He knew production in Seattle was usually only for the fishing industry, but yet Emh still appeared to have no clue who he was, standing before her sharing his deepest secrets. "That name sounds familiar," he noted "not a lot of people named Darlington I would imagine. What's he like?"

"Your typical Hollywood gay transported from coast to coast who made his way up to Seattle?"

Edgar couldn't help but laugh. He couldn't make a correlation with the name to a description of anyone he had cataloged in his memory banks. A sign of relief flushed him when he realized he was still under the cover of ignorance with Emh. He knew he would have to come clean sooner than later, the more she became a social butterfly, the sooner she would learn of his profession and show anyway.

XxXxXx

Afternoon turned into evening, and Emh made her and Edgar a pan of lasagna with leftovers sent home with him once they parted ways for the evening. "So I won't see you tomorrow I would guess, I don't know how long I'm with Darlington but it's going to be awhile."

"I have some commitments I need to attend to anyway; I'll be busy for the next few days. We'll keep in touch?"

"Yeah, I don't plan to get a land line, so you can just call my cell, okay?"

"Yeah, here, I'll call your number… what is it?"

"763…" she started off, watching as he entered each number with precision. Hitting the send button, somewhere off on the kitchen counter Emh's cell phone rang. Looking around to see the phone, she turned to Edgar where he met her with a smile.

"I don't enter in names, I just keep the numbers. Easier for me…"

Emh nodded, though he was the first person she's ever heard do that. With a last pet to the dog, Edgar waved goodbye to Emh as he walked back to his residence. The evening was cool; a crisp feeling to the growing night let him know they weren't at summer quite yet. The coolness chilled his bones, bringing back the feeling of the water this morning; what a day it had been.

In such a short time, his mind was preoccupied with things he never saw coming. He had been sober beyond the days of withdraw; he was narrowing in on better days ahead, he could feel it.

* * *

The Alaska Airlines took Viv to Kodiak Island this early May morning; Kodiak was gorgeous but it would only be a day that she was to spend here. Kodiak was the epitome of beauty; it was the quintessential island full of scenic wonderment at every turn. It was breathtaking. She would make the trek to St. Paul Harbor and view the sights there. Here she would gain a real glimpse at the life her husband lives.

XxXxXx

Processing plants weren't about to give Viv a tour, and being a single female walking the docks wasn't attracting anyone or anything but some offhand comments, leaving her with a general sense of malaise. The first reality to hit her was, not everyone could get a job here. It had been a presumption that any Tom, Dick or Harry could end up on a fishing vessel doing exactly what it was that Edgar does. But the port bulletin boards littered with "Greenhorn looking for work" and the docks crawling with greenhorn wannabe's gave Viv her first reality check. Edgar was important.

Trying to chat up a few locals who were wandering the harbors, she found a man kind enough to stop and speak with her for a moment or two. He identified himself as a 22-year-old looking for work. "Salmon," he said was his specialty and he did a lot of work out in Anacortes in Washington. "Came here looking for work," he noted "trying to make my way over to Dutch to see about getting on a vessel for King Crab later this year" he said, eyes full of hope, almost glassy eyed as Viv assumed he just saw dollar signs. And for once, she was probably right. Landlocked guys from all over come to Alaska with hopes of striking it rich and ending up on a high profit vessel. Little do they realize how hard the job is; often green horns need to put in their dues, work a season for free to gain experience before they can even earn any kind of share, much less full share.

Wishing him good luck, Viv had gained a bit of knowledge. Men _wanted_ Edgar's job. If they had realized they were talking to the wife of the deck boss aboard the Northwestern, she would be hounded. Not much good it would do them, considering she is about as clueless as the next greenhorn hopeful, she felt a sense of pride for once in her husband.

Spending the greater portion of the day on the docks, learning of stories and even hearing her own husband's name being dropped in a conversation or two, her world started to seem a bit clearer. But with that clarity came deep remorse and she hadn't even stepped foot on Dutch Harbor yet!

As Viv walked along the docks, she came across the Captain for the Arctic Sea. The vessel was in town, spending a few nights in Kodiak while being repaired. Viv managed to gain his attention and spoke at great length with him. He was being kind, seeing how she was so interested in the Hansen brood, men he worked alongside of for the last 11 seasons.

"They've taken some pretty hard hits, ma'am" he said, sipping his coffee as they shared a park bench on the dock. Waving his hand off to an approaching greenhorn wannabe, "sorry son, I've got a full crew," he turned his attention back to Viv. "But that Northwestern is a tough old bird. She gets knocked down and she pops right back up," he said, stretching his legs before bringing them under the bench again. "Old man Sig is a great Captain, but his crew is made up of mostly his family, you know" he said, nodding to her looking for a reaction. "He's got one of the best, most sought after deck bosses around. His younger brother Edgar is a jack of all trades. People like him are worth their weight in gold."

With those words, Viv's stomach grew upset and the prickles in her throat that often proceed vomiting weighed heavily in her throat. "I don't know how many years they'll be at the top of their game like they are though," he said in the same breath. "Sig's a hard ass. He will run that crew down to their last ounce of strength, give them 4 hours to recoup, then do another 40-hour stretch."

Viv suddenly sat straight up, "you mean they work constantly, around the clock? No breaks…?"

A belly laugh surprised Viv as it flooded from the mouth of this Captain sitting next to her so cordially. "None! We're a tireless breed, ma'am, but no one runs his crew down like Sig. He's the most stubborn headed son of a bitch Captain around, but he's also ranked #1 among the tight fleet community that sets out to the Bering Sea. He turns out the most profit, is the fastest and the most efficiently run vessel here. It's his hardnosed Captaining but really it's his crew that makes him a success. That can be pin pointed right down to his deck boss. If your deck boss doesn't relay the message from the skipper, if he doesn't see to it that the orders are followed with proficient and flawless efforts, everything gets bogged down or backed up. But not only is he the deck boss, he's also the head engineer who can fix anything wrong with the boat. He runs the rail; he literally is the most talented jack of all trades in this fleet."

Viv sat amazed. She had never heard her husband spoke of so highly, and more so by someone who clearly in this harbor was himself a pretty big thing. The Captain kept turning away greenhorns, "this is why I don't sit out on the public dock," he laughed, patting her leg, standing. "We can continue this if you would like, but I need to get back to my vessel to see how the progress is going."

"May I see your boat?"

Laughing, he nodded, "sure, it's just down this way," he said, walking west on the dock towards the bigger ships that ported. "Right this way," he said, leading her to a turn on the dock where at the very end sat the Arctic Sea. A few minutes later, she was aboard, up front by the bow, realizing just how different this was from the ships she imagined. "Ma'am, might I ask what's your curiosity about all this? Are you here alone?"

Looking the Captain up and down, "my husband does this for a living; I haven't a clue what kind of life he leads away from home when he's out here, so I've made it my mission to see what it's like. I have to admit, it's quite sobering."

"Is he a deck hand somewhere?"

"Yeah, he's been doing this for awhile," Viv said, clearly trying to limit her conversations about her husband. She was here to find out about his life away from home, not relish in his celebrity up here and be treated specially.

"Well, I can give you a quick tour if you'd like, we'll be docked here another couple of days…"

With that, Viv started to walk around. She was shown the difference between starboard, port side, and the length of the hull compared to others around, she was told the concept of freeboard, the differences in where a wheelhouse sits, the benefits, the galley, the tiny area they sleep, assuming they get to. "So what exactly wouldn't be unheard of for a stretch of work?"

"30-36 hours..."

Viv stopped in her tracks. "No breaks, just working, through the day, the night, into the morning and again, 30-hours straight?" Viv asked, sounding a bit impish. She felt she was being had or lied to "how is that humanly possible?"

"Doesn't your husband come home, skinnier and exhausted? Even on the best and slowest of decks, they're working 24-hours straight without a break. It's not a job for the weary or unmotivated. It'll kick your ass. It's like being in jail with a chance of drowning, too. Nothing for weeks on end, every wave, every moment of the day, something could possibly kill you."

"All for what?"

"A lot of us are born into this life. I'm third generation fishermen, a lot of these kids out here now are, but the greenhorns you see walking up to us on that dock, think it's an easy payday. I love that show, Deadliest Catch, for what it's done to our industry, but it's given a bad assumption to those kids who clearly had no upbringing in the fishing world. This isn't a job to aspire to having; it's a life sentence for being born into it. You grow to love it, you grow to hate it, but if you were born a fisherman you'll stay a fisherman. These kids," he said, laughing and pointing to the sea of them that dotted the shores and docks, "Most of them haven't a clue what it would be like on those waters. The ones that do, if they're not on a vessel, have gone home to school or a 9-5. This isn't for everyone. You get out to that sea, those waves crashing over the rail in a relentless, rhythmic dance where each and every single one could send you to your maker…"

Viv stopped him, "is it always like that?"

"The calmest of fishing is still going to have pretty significant waves to those who aren't used to them. The ship rocks, very rarely are there calm waters where your sea legs aren't needed. Sometimes it can get so violent out there, you brace for the worst. There hasn't been a season that has gone by where one vessel hasn't had a near miss. We often lose our brothers out there ma'am and it ain't something we like to talk about. It's just a reality that is."

Making their way back to where they first started out, Viv looked around at the small, cramped quarters of a fishing vessel that turned out to be bigger than the one her husband is on. It made her feel claustrophobic; it was loaded with the pots, stacked and ready to go back to port after a long and tiring season.

"I hope this brought a little insight to you, ma'am." He said, showing her way off the boat.

With a wave to the Captain that she didn't even get the name of, Viv walked aimlessly with a head full of information she never thought she'd understand. What was most prevalent was that all this while, she had been wrong. She had assumed her husband was on a beautiful ship, with creature comforts, low stress, just "out fishin" with the boys. How wrong she was left her feeling humiliated, she couldn't believe after all this while her husband never corrected her. She knew though, she never gave him the chance. 'I just assumed it was a feigned exhaustion' she thought to herself, 'but he did break always so easily…'

Viv started to realize she was a monster; the worst part was she had just barely witnessed the tip of the iceberg. Her days up in Alaska became her worst actualization, it threw every wrong idea, preconceived notion and assumed thought she had about Edgar and his 'little job' right back in her face. She made her way to an isolated part of the docks, where no ships or vessels float near. And in a moment of true, authentic actualization, Viv shed a tear. She had no idea. But with this new found sense of truth, she didn't know if she could handle it. The years of living in her world of ignorance, slamming her husband and telling him to his face that his job was a cake walk, perhaps was her backwards way of somehow telling herself it wasn't as dangerous as he said. Her lack of tolerance for his stories and near misses became after thoughts to Edgar, never sharing his own personal hell while he was away from his wife and family.

Viv never gave him a chance to vent, to cry when he lost fellow fishermen at sea; she was cold. It appeared to work, the harder she would come down on Edgar the less he would speak of his job and life away from her. "I'm the reason he's a drunk," she cried out, "I forced him to drink to chase away the thoughts," she sobbed on the lonely dock in Kodiak. "If I had just been a good wife, if I had listened to him when he needed me, if I could just take it all back." Her body suddenly became heavier than it had ever been, with a lurking heavy sensation on her back and shoulders. She hunched her head forward, bringing her head between her knees to breathe. Always one to have a flare for the dramatics, this time it was genuine. Viv was having a complete breakthrough as she was breaking down.

"I've got to fix this," she chanted to herself in her head. "If I had just been honest from the beginning," Viv thought. Could this be then, in a moment of self-actualization, that she came to an epiphany? "Forgive me, Edgar," she sniffled, her sobs under control. "I'm going to try to do right by you". And in that moment, Viv suddenly felt an attachment to her husband that had been missing for 20-years.


	9. Chapter 8

**Author's Note**: Hey everybody! What a crazy couple weeks I've had. In light of not updating last weekend, (with good reason) today I will bring you two chapters to make up for it, so we're back on track! Last weekend I became an aunt again to a little peanut named Thomas. I spent all weekend tied up with my 2-year-old niece while mom was delivering Thomas with her husband at her side. Sheesh 2-year-olds are hyper! So that's my excuse. It's a good one, right? As I'm sure many of you have now become entirely aware of, seems things with DC will be a bit different this season. Talks and negotiations are still underway and there's a good possibility we will still see both Northwestern and Time Bandit on this upcoming season, but unless they strike a deal by 10/15, it looks like it'll just be the Cornelia Marie and Wizard for certain. Little birdies have been chattering about other vessels taking the spots of the F/V Northwestern and F/V Time Bandit, but we'll just have to wait and see.. I'd like to send you some rec's this week for author's to check out. Next update I'll direct you to specific stories, (later this evening) but until then, I'll make a hat tip to **JakeHarrisLover** and to **IrishCaptain. **Their styles of writing are captivating and definitely worth a moment of acknowledgment. So with that, until this evening... _in no way, shape or form is this a true story. All crew from the Deadliest Catch (eg: Northwestern, Cornelia Marie, Time Bandit, etc) are the rightful owners of trademark and registered publishing for their specific namesakes. I make no claims of ownership; I am just a writer, doing what I love._

_

* * *

_

"_There's a place downtown where the freaks all come around, it's a hole in the wall, it's a dirty free for all" _thumped in Darlington's Audi at this very early hour_. "_Is this really necessary?" Emh asked Darlington, noting the volume, the music, the whole charade that was happening.

"Oh girl, you're getting the shifty eyes now," he responded, cranking it louder as he looked to her, his one eye opening wider as the other did the opposite.

"Looks more like you're giving me the stink eye, Darl_"_ she laughed; her mood clearly far more lively and enhanced since the days Edgar popped into her life. Knowing fair well, however, that he was married albeit happy or not, she would refrain from explaining anything of the sort to Darlington. He would press and pry and it would end up a bigger production than she cared for.

"_Looooosssee your minnndd, loosseee it nowwww"_ Darlington screamed along with the lyrics, off key and a bit pitchy. He eyed Emh, seeing her pained look and decided it was in his best interest to avoid a whacking by turning the music lower and perhaps toning down his flamboyance at this 5am start time. "I can't help it," he laughed, (giggling is more like), "Mike Rowe, I get to see all these men again!" If he could have jumped up and down, he would have, 'cuz God knows he was already squealing. Darlington was Emh's first gay friend; his lifestyle was definitely a new ride for her.

With her nose practically pressed to the window, Emh sighed in wonderment at the beauty that was Seattle. Puget Sound, the signs for it even got her a little excited, but Darlington was far more consumed in his own thoughts than to evoke any attempted interest in the scenery. Washington's beauty wore off long ago, "yeah yeah, trees, water, pretty" rolled off his tongue as he flipped to the next song, as they made their way over the floating bridge.

Arriving to a series of homes that someone of Emh's background has only admired from afar, Darlington parked his Audi, giving Emh some much needed relief from the whines and screeches of his techno, club-inspired soundtrack. Skipping back to the car, he re-parked it and soon the two were heading down to a home one would see on an episode of Cribs. A relatively attractive man named Keith answered the door; Emh couldn't discern what she was more taken back by: Keith's attractiveness, sans wedding ring, or the glorious home that waited behind him.

A man's voice, familiar yet hard to place echoed throughout. Peering around, he greeted her; he stood over 6 feet, had kind eyes but clearly was 20-years-older than her; "Mike Rowe" he introduced himself after a little prying as to who she was, "I'm Emh, Darlington's friend" she managed after a moments passing. He was painfully attractive. No ring, Emh swooned.

The way the day was to follow seemed a bit interesting, but aside from Mike there wasn't any of the 'gorgeous' captains that Darlington was certain would be there. 'Tomorrow' she was told, being told verbatim the same thing Darlington was told not ten minutes before. Following him all around town, Darlington and Emh acted as a gopher. Darlington did a lot of styling and worked closely with lighting and production, scouting locations that scattered them all throughout Seattle. Emh's favorite was a location that had Mike filmed with a back drop of Puget Sound, a slight breeze, a beautiful blue sky, it was amazing. Mike was a funny individual, but flubbed his lines so many times it was a wonder they ever managed to get him in one sound bite. The night was capped off with drinks, several rounds down, generously on Mike's tab. There were more than a half dozen production crew members that Emh and Darlington had become close with over the day that went too, but as conversations stalled, it was Emh and Darlington's cue to head out. They had a 4am call the next morning.

…Something though, something someone had said began eating away at Emh's mind after the mention of the name 'Edgar' was mouthed by both Mike and Darlington. 'Common name, my ass' Emh thought.

"Say," Darlington spoke, breaking the silence that had loomed over the car ride, "This Edgar you mentioned earlier, what's that story".

Careful to make sure she didn't mention too many details "just a neighbor" she said, feeling safe playing it off as simply a new friend, an acquaintance. "He's just a very nice neighbor, never knew an Edgar before". Emh was withholding a lot from Darlington, from Raven her new pet, to the excitement of the new neighbor that was a hell of a lot more neighborly than any she has yet to have. Feelings are a strange thing, but it was definitely a burden she was going to bear alone, the man was married… it was just a crush…

The long drive to Emh's place left them with only a few hour time lapse before they would have to be back at Daniel's Broiler for the morning shoot. Darlington contemplated staying with Emh, but his home in Capitol Hill was mere minutes away from shooting location and would afford him that much more sleep, then to go tandem tomorrow and have to leave so much earlier. With a wave, he sent Emh off as his Audi made quick work of the dark winding roads and was off in the distance before Emh even closed her door.

Raven met her with a joyful cry, running in circles as Emh went to let her out one last time for the night. Retreating to bed, she set her alarm for four-hours from then. "This should be interesting Raven," Emh laughed, as her black lab sprawled out next to her. Something sat kind of funny in both Emh's mind and stomach, a weird butterfly sensation and perhaps a bit of an apprehension. Closing her eyes and resting, listening to her own shallow breath, she soon drifted into a peaceful, dreamless sleep, completely unaware of how the next day would change her.

xXxXxXx

4-hours and five minutes later, Emh sprung up from bed, feeling more refreshed than she ought after only a handful of hours sleeping. A quick shower, a change of clothing, a business-casual attire Darlington determined should be "suitable" for today, she let Raven out, crated her before heading to her Hyundai and headed out. A bagel in tow with a bottle of water, the darkness still lingered with dawn still a ways away.

Arriving to Daniel's Broiler, Emh met with Darlington who looked worse for wear. Clearly not a morning person, he already had a carrier full of coffee and a shit grin. Despite his appearance, he was clearly excited for what was about to transpire.

"Right this way," he instructed, as she too felt a sense of excitement wash over her. Arriving at the doors, she was met with a smile and a badge that clipped to her belt loop "this should do ya," said the man, not recognizing it was Keith from the day before. He was bundled up with a ball cap on, a gravel voice, but still kind no less. Inside Daniel's the place was riddled with wires, crew, cameras and lights. Testing out different reference points, at a table, not far from the docks edge were men sitting around a table, several looking rather disheveled, others more put together. "Dropped the ball there, didn't ya?" Emh laughed, looking to Darlington.

"Hardly, they're not ready yet, just using them for scaling and referencing; I take no claim on how they appear at the moment," he giggled, sighing to himself heavily as he passed around the coffee, one directly into the hands of Mike Rowe. Mike looked amazing already, very much put together but definitely had already made it through wardrobe and make up as his face seemed a bit too tan and… 'pretty' for a guy at this early hour.

Darlington made his way through, off to the left, only a few feet or so away from the encircled area where some of the captains were. Four sat, one smoking like a chimney, as the others laughed and waited for their 'thing' to start. "We don't make captains wait, they have limited patience with us," Darlington noted, "That one right there" he head nodded towards a man, scruffy, shaggy hair, appeared in his mid-50's with a cigarette burning in between his fingers, "is Phil," he said, "looks like he could have a mean streak, but really he's the biggest teddy bear."

Emh took notice, as Phil looked around, spotting Emh before she dipped out of his line of sight, all to Darlington's amusement. "And that one," he nodded "is Andy, he's brothers to the guy next to him which is Johnathan, they're both on the Time Bandit, the bad boys of the Bering Sea if you will. Andy's just as much of a prankster as his brother, can never be sure what you'll get with them. Never have your back to them," he laughed "and then the one on the end is Keith Colburn; he is Captain from the Wizard. He's a temperamental son of a bitch but he's also a very loyal man. Good family, nice wife, great kids, but I'd never want to work for him," he said, looking Emh very seriously in the eye. "Yeah, never!"

"Who ya hiding over there, Darlington?" Phil asked, a very throaty voice accompanying his glimmering eyes despite this before sunrise start. Phil, like the other Captains was unfazed by the start time, especially Phil; he could do days on end without sleep and still work professionally. "You're hiding a girl, I saw her, bring her out, don't shove her in the corner, what's your name?"

Peaking her head around, "Emh,"

"Nice to meet ya, now what the hell are ya doing here?"

Emh looked to Darlington, "she's with me Phil, just seeing what I do"

"Boy, that'll be a hard thing, do you do something?" Phil was the sarcastic one, "shouldn't be hard Emh, just watch all he does" Phil laughed, taking a drag on his cigarette. "So, when are you going to make me the hottie, Darl?"

"Like that can happen," he shot back, getting a laugh out of Phil. "Good one, but you'll never get one up on me," Phil said, "I can keep it coming boy," he laughed, nodding his head, affirming his own statement.

Moving across the floor to the docks where the camera crews were propped up in various locations, the sky started to lighten. Production was waiting on Sig Hansen to arrive, he always showed up exactly on time. Not a minute early, not a minute late, always exactly on time. "Once we get Sig here, we'll start filming, Mike, take your place out on the dock, we'll cue you up" Keith shouted.

Taking refuge in the corner, Emh watched as Mike began reading his lines, a total night and day difference from the emcee she saw yesterday. He was flawless in his efforts, Darlington had made mention that they try to do this show in one take, language permitting. The captains have a tendency to swear like the sailors they are, but so long as the colorful language is distinguishable and able to be bleeped, the cameras continue to roll.

Production was smaller scale today than it was yesterday; most were for set up, very few people needed to be in when filming. Aside from Darlington, Emh noted Keith, the camera crew and a few lighting folks spread out. Including the captains, there were less than 20, where unlike the day before that was easily doubled. "Sig's in the building" Keith called out, as a blonde man met up with the others at the round table.

"So when do you get to dress them," Emh looked to Darlington. His face fell, "well, I guess this time, they go on as they are. They're trying to keep it authentic, they get powder to avoid the harsh lighting and that's it. They go on as they are," he said, looking dejected.

"I'm sorry Darl," Emh said, then turning her attention back to the men. All of them wore something donning their vessel logos or names. In varying states of dishevelment, they looked like sailors. This was no suit and tie affair, although Sig appeared to be the most put together. Johnathan was wearing a black tee shirt with his boats name, Andy in a button down black shirt with the same logo as his brother, Sig in a denim button down with his logo and Phil in a sweatshirt with an undistinguishable logo. "It's actually not a big deal, that's only a side thing I do, I maintain a lot of other things that have nothing to do with appearance, remember, Mike's usually the one I watch over the most, and as you can see, he's looking mighty fine."

The show began to film as the first hint of the sun began to rise. It was a cool vibe, and if televisions had smell vision, a mixture of sea water, cigarette smoke, and coffee would penetrate their senses. There were stories one after the next, more telling and dramatic then the next, language flowed fluidly and without hesitation. The next segment was bringing in crew members; they broke for what would be a commercial break, and then added more stools to the table. Two young men, who were Phil's sons' came out, and then in a moment of sheer shock, someone Emh recognized.

Edgar.

* * *

Aboard a pond hopper, Viv watched out the window as Unalaska came into view. It was a town of essentially nothing, 1 bar, 1 church, 1 jail and 1 store. But it held a lot of meaning to her family, to her husband anyway. Unalaska airport was about as small as an airport could be; it was on Amaknak Island, in the heart of the Aleutian Islands. It was definitely a glorious location filled with nature's beauty and some of the best sights she has seen in nature, but it also held a sense of unease for her. She was walking in the footsteps of her husband; these steps felt so distant and empty; here was a life she should know every last detail about, but as reality were, instead it loomed over her with a haunting absence, a void space where so many questions she had, gave her cold, hard answers.

Touching ground with her first step off the plane, the awe and wonderment of Unalaska hit her, as did the reality that she was walking the same path her husband had so many times. The hotel she left had arranged for a ride to pick her up; it would act as her tour guide for the day trip she had to Unalaska. She had a must stop, to travel the exact path he would, she went to Dutch, saw the very harbor he uses season after season. Viv was surprised to see several ships left in the harbor, the Alaska Rose was docked next to the Bering Rose, the Arctic Hunter next to the Aleutian Beauty… it was a sight to be seen, but it made her sad to think so many times the Northwestern was here.

The guided tour took less than two hours to fulfill, Dutch wasn't opened to random folks walking about, it was the busy commercial fishermen area during the season, but when it wasn't prime time, it offered very little to see. Besides, Viv being as uneducated as she was with the ways of the fishing world, was more harm than good if she were to attempt a touristy walk along Dutch.

xXxXxXx

It was hard to believe Viv was narrowing in on a week up in Alaska. In such short time, she felt she was finding herself, identifying with all the wrongs she had been committing in the years that spanned her marriage. Edgar was a good man, his demons something she should work with him on and not use against him. She had the hardest time coping with the thought that her two children, ones that adored her even after all the shit she pulled on them and the bad mother that she was to them, has such a cruel and mean mother. She was to be their protector and their spot for unconditional love; what they got was an existence based off of spite and cruelty, and a lifestyle fraught with peril and unnecessary hatred from their own mom. The malice that Viv was guilty of, the level of issues she would foresee herself always living with, would linger heavily in her mind until she was 6 feet under.

"I can never confess to my husband or children the reason that they're here," she thought, shaking her head violently, as if to rid the thoughts all together. "I cannot breathe a word, even in the heat of a moment, no one needs to know that. What good could come of it?" She sat deep in thought as her ride rounded Ballyhoo Road, with Latitudes coming into view. "Stop here," she instructed "this is one place I need to be at for awhile. Could you come get me later today?"

Her guide looked at the clock to see it was barely after 2 and yet here he was, dropping her off at the town's only bar. "Sure miss, whatever you say," he responded, as Viv got out and shut the door. His bright red car wasn't going to be easily missed, so with a deep breath, she opened the door to the purple bar, and was stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes tried adjusting to the dim light, but she knew that face anywhere. A few feet ahead, sitting center on the wall in a framed photo was a picture of her husband and the crew of the Northwestern. Her eyes began to well up, as the sorrow took a new, dramatic turn.

* * *

Edgar hadn't seen Emh, she was hidden behind a camera man, Darlington and the darkness the corner held. But she knew it was him, his stature, the hair, the voice, inside of her, parts were prickling with giddiness as other rang confused and alarmed. Darlington looked to Emh, but didn't make the correlation as he was in dreamy wonder looking at the men all gathered, laughing and drinking, despite this dawn taping. Irish coffee was the morning drink, but to her delight, she heard him pipe up "black for me," and watched as the other crew and captains around him nodded in silent acknowledgment. To some degree Emh surmised they all probably had a dependency to alcohol but none like the problem Edgar openly admitted to having.

And just like that, he sat down, next to Sig and at that moment she was able to get visual confirmation of what she already knew; it was him. He hadn't necessarily been coy or deceitful about hiding who he was, Emh realized, but he never breathed a word that he was some sort of celebrity, either. She wondered why he hadn't mentioned it, but all the same, to her, nothing had changed. It was still Edgar that she had a little faint pitter patter for, and someone that she enjoyed time with.

As the sun began to rise even further, Emh realized within a handful of minutes, she would be found out, her hiding space would soon illuminate with the shining light, and he would have a direct line of vision to her. She felt nervous, there wasn't a way out without being seen and the set was quiet except for their on-going conversations. Emh wasn't surprised to see how easily Edgar partook in the conversations that flowed, the obscene language more comical than offensive, and his animated stories made her smile all the more.

Noticeably absent though, was Edgar's wedding band. He had had it on and off throughout their week of adventures, but today it marked a statement, she thought. This was being filmed, this was something millions of people would see, and yet the gold band that he had somewhere in his possession was lacking its place, wrapped around his left ring finger. His brother, Sig, as Emh realized was the blonde who came in earlier, had his ring on standing bright and proud against his light complexion. Andy, too for that matter, but around the table, those were the only two that had a wedding band on. It sent questions flooding through her mind, ones that perhaps in due time he would answer. Or maybe after he saw her here, things would crumble and he would avoid her. A panic set in for a brief moment as she tried to bed down the anxiety "he wouldn't do that" she convinced herself.

"So Edgar, we've seen on the show in the past season some difficult times making their way onto the boat. This season, you also stormed off," Mike said, clearly holding nothing back, purposefully trying to get a rise out of him, "have things smoothed over with you and your crew, or is it likely we won't see you back for another season?"

Edgar laughed it off, "you trying to start something Mike?" He retorted, half-heartedly. "In all seriousness, yes, there's been a lot of drama in my life both on and off the boat," he said, taking a sip of his coffee as he looked up.

…At the same time, the light began to illuminate Emh's corner. Slightly moving out of the direct sunshine so she wouldn't be blinded, she inadvertently moved in his direct line of vision. And in a moment of "oh my God" Edgar's eyes locked with Emh's.

And in that moment, several things happened: Edgar began to stutter, blinked his eyes, then shook his head, turning to Mike and laughed "I'm sorry, what was the question..." the crew looked around to each other and then to him. Sig furrowing his brow, turned to look to his brother, and laughed "he's just playing, go on, tell them, everything is cool between us," Sig said, trying to save face for his brother, not exactly sure what was happening in that moment.

"Yeah, what he said" Edgar laughed, visibly uncomfortable, which in turn wore off on the rest of the captains who were exchanging a look of perplexity. In normal Phil fashion, he would have piped up with some sort of sarcastic prompt, but it didn't even seem like the place to him, to make sure a note. Mike saw Keith give the signal to head toward break, and so with that, he did. As they called cut, Edgar stood from the table and jutted off to the right, passing right in front of the camera, Darlington and of course, Emh. He looked her straight in the eye, all emotion or expression wiped from his face; he headed out a back exit, and immediately lights a cigarette.

"What was that all about?" Mike expressed, looking around to everyone and then to Sig.

"Hey, don't look at me. He's been all fucked up for awhile."

As Darlington turned to speak with Emh, he realized she was gone. Spinning around and trying to locate her, off to the side, he saw a sliver of light left from a closing door, the same one Edgar had stormed out of minutes before. And then finally for Darlington it clicked. "Oh My God…"


	10. Chapter 9

**Author's Note**: This chapter was writting all by long hand around a campfire throughout late last night into the early morning hours. Trying to make legible my chicken scratch was quite the comical feat! Today, as promised, I am sending you or suggesting that you check out some of these stories in between my updates. First is by **JakeHarrisLover** with a great completed work called "**So Contagious"** pay attention to the rating, it's a "T" like Drifting Anchor. The other work is by **IrishCaptain** with a wonderful piece called "**Old Friends, New Feelings" **rated "M"**_. _**Be mindful of the ratings, I don't need young'ins reading things they best not be reading. ;) Anyway,_ s_ince the formatting on here eats up hyperlinks, just use the search to easily find both. Highly recommended! With that, we're back on schedule with where we should be on the weekly updates. I've tried my hardest to maintain a steady update for you all, so that I can keep it flowing fluidly and maintain your interest. How am I doing? :) Enjoy this next bit, heavily Viv-involved. OH! And TOLD YA! Northwestern and Time Bandit are back in the saddle, baby! Shout Out to Cohen Gardner LLP for kickin ass and taking names. With that, _in no way, shape or form is this a true story. All crew from the Deadliest Catch (eg: Northwestern, Cornelia Marie, Time Bandit, etc) are the rightful owners of trademark and registered publishing for their specific namesakes. I make no claims of ownership; I am just a writer, doing what I love._

* * *

"Well I'll be a son of a bitch," Darlington thought to himself, spinning back on his heels trying to void the crew from going after Edgar. "My assistant has training in therapy and emergency crisis, give her a second to work her magic," Darlington smiled, lying through his teeth.

The captains still exchanging a look of 'what the…' Sig sat, shaking his head. "He's a good man," Sig said, "he's just a troubled one" realizing where he was, he looked up "and that better stay off the record!" His stern words could send a chill down anyone's spine, let alone anyone who dared to go against what he said.

"We're off record," Keith noted to Sig "and we will remain so until we start rolling again. But Sig, we really need your brother back here," he told him, concern in his voice. The Hansen men were as predictable as the weather, you think you're on to something and then just like that, it turns on you. Very few individuals over the course of Edgar's life though, could talk him down calmly without severe repercussions.

"You got your opening scene, no?" Sig asked, looking straight to Keith.

"Yeah, we have the most important footage we needed; at this point we can wait him out if it's necessary." While hesitant to say that for fear the other captains would protest or bitch and moan, Keith was relieved to see so long as the men had free flowing drinks and cigarettes at the ready, they would easily wait out Edgar; at least for a little while longer.

xXxXxXx

Pacing back and forth, Edgar began panicking, thinking to himself as he took an exaggerated drag on his cigarette of all the things he confided in Emh. 'Oh God,' he worried, it was a bad idea to be involved with another woman, no matter the situation it would look bad in press. His subconscious kept throwing out terms like 'the other woman' and 'affair'- it was selfish to think of only him in this scenario, it was another to think of Emh getting bad press for being the home wrecker. She was far too innocent in all of this to be dragged through the vicious cycle of bad press. He continued to pace, cursing himself for even allowing this to go on as it had; he felt that his action by getting caught up in the whimsy of Emh were now going haunt him. 'I should have just said who I was to begin with, that would have helped everyth…'

As he was lost in thought, trying best as he could to contemplate a way of handling this, a hand that gently tapped his shoulder startled him back to reality. With a jolt, he turned, half expecting to see Sig, but not shocked to see her kind, sweet face looking at him so concerned. "Are you okay?" She asked worry sprawling across her young face. She gave a few paces of space between them, backing away. His expression upon seeing her caused a churning in her stomach. Not expecting a bad reaction, but bracing for words that could discourage, this very scenario proved they were both on entirely different wave lengths. She worried he was upset that she was there, that somehow she was on grounds that should not have been trespassed. He was more concerned with his actions, that by allowing her in to his life, capitalizing on her ignorance of who he was, just really overcomplicated both their lives.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, still reacting to the surprise of seeing her face.

"That first friend I made here, that I had told you about? That's Darlington. He's been having me follow him the last two days; I guess this is what he does…" Despite a few moments passing, Edgar still hadn't responded, "I'm sorry if you're mad. I had no idea. I'm just tagging along; he was trying to do a favor."

"So did you know he works for Discovery this whole time?" he asked, his voice coming off sterner than he had intended.

"He mentioned he worked for them and a Mike Rowe, but until yesterday I had no idea who Mike Rowe was, I still don't, but I have a better idea now that I've spent the last day or so watching him work. I'm sorry, I didn't know…"

"Emh, don't apologize. You don't have a right to be upset or be sorry, but now that my cover is blown, I am Edgar Hansen; deck boss to the fishing vessel Northwestern. I am a part of this huge reality series Deadliest Catch. We all have fans; women that document our every move, that stake out meet and greets and try to be with us. To some people, we guys are kind of a big deal, I'm sorry I wasn't forthcoming about it."

"Why did you feel you had to hide it? This doesn't really change anything for me?"

He paused again appearing deep in thought. He eyed Emh several times, having finished his cigarette and leaning against the back of the building. Looking to her, he squinted, quizzing her; "You really know nothing about this show or what I'm talking about, or what we're doing here?"

"Dear sweet Edgar… Hansen," she smiled, "No, I never had a clue who you were, what you did, nor had I ever a reason to really guess. I assumed it was something to do with real estate, but I figured when you felt it was in my interest to know more about you, you'd tell me. My life back home sweetheart wasn't one that involved fishing, the fishing industry, or a lot of television about the commercial fishing industry. Say I live under a rock if it makes more sense, but when it came to reality television, I had no clue. So no, I hadn't any inkling about any of this, I promise. I know only of what you told me."

The answer seemed to satisfy what it was Edgar needed appeased. "When you walked in, you could have knocked me over with a feather," she continued, smiling. "But even watching you come in and sit down, it wasn't like I had this 'ah ha' moment where everything came together. I was more like 'huh, didn't see that coming' more than anything" Emh giggled, trying to lighten the intensity of the moment.

Edgar looked her square in the eye trying to decipher one last time if she was being honest with him, or trying in her endearing way to just ease his mind. Believing with all he had that she wasn't someone who had that bone in her to being malicious, Edgar struggled with the idea of having something genuine coming from a female. His track record was spotty with women being honest about things, but before he even could begin to say something, she offered up her day to leave. "If you want, I don't have to stay" she said, offering him an easy out so he could get done what he needed to.

"Actually," he laughed to himself, feeling the nerves and stress tighten his neck muscles, tension stiffening them with every passing moment, "I think someone is going to want to meet you," he said, rubbing his neck with his free hand.

"Who?" She asked, looking at him with confusion written all over her

"My brother."

* * *

"You look familiar" Trig said, slapping down a white square napkin and asking Viv what she would like.

"Pink squirrel please" she said. Though she happened to miss his reaction, Trig shifted his eyes several times over at the 'pink squirrel' request. He was used to pouring whiskey over the rocks with water, or a rum and coke.

"A pink squirrel?" he reiterated

"Yes please."

At least she was being cordial about it. Thing is, she wasn't in some hip Seattle club that offered things like Creme de Noyaux that was required of a pink squirrel. On top of that she was in Unalaska, the only bar on the island, where bottles of beer were kept in stock and the variety of whiskey far outweighed any crème de somethings. "Ma'am, I hate to say it, but I haven't what's required of the drink here, could I try making you something else that could be comparable?"

"Sure, sure" she muttered. Normally at this point she would have tossed her hand in gesture toward him of her displeasure, but she was trying to change that. Her patience did wane quite a bit, but the pay off was a sweet tasting drink, a little too strong for her tastes, but scrumptious at the very least.

"Tell me about these photos," she demanded, pointing to several behind his back.

"What would you like to know?"

"Their stories of course," she said, fingering through some of the prints that were left on the bar.

"Well first, let me ask you about yourself if I may, to see how I will need to explain myself," he said, somewhat losing Viv in the conversation.

"I live in Washington, I'm up here trying to retrace some of the steps my husband has taken as he has been a deck hand for a boat."

"Oh is he now," Trig questioned, looking to her and calling her bluff. "What ship?"

"Aleutian Ballad," she lied, knowing fair well she could make up some story based off the information she had learned from the captain the days before.

"What's his name? I probably know him,"

"He was a one-season green horn. Couldn't stomach the sea, so I really doubt it; I'm just curious to retrace some of his steps. He said I'd never make it up in Alaska, too cold, too this, too that, so I'm here without him knowing," she smiled slyly, putting to use some of the terms she remember from the conversation with that captain, "so about these pictures, tell me some stories."

"Well," he said, turning and leaning against the bars counter, getting now the same view and perspective that Viv had. Closing in on a picture he pulled it from the wall, the one above and the one to the right were of the Northwestern crew, she sighed quietly as he approached her.

"The Cornelia Marie" he said, pointing to each and every man in the photo. "One of the nicest Captains around, Phil here," he noted, pointing to the man center in the picture "is a regular, a damn good tipper and one hell of a drinker. I'd love to see his liver," he laughed, coming off a bit creepish to Viv. "He can party it up like no other I've seen. His sons are taking after him," Trig laughed, "oh the stories these walls could tell that just involved the Harris guys." Taking a moment to highlight in his mind a reel of the crazier times, Trig leaned forward and pulled another, one of the Northwestern.

Viv's heart began to race violently, "and these guys, what a bunch," he chuckled to himself. Viv could tell this man would have the juicier details, he could tell Viv things she's sure none of the crew would ever think would have made daylight again. "Where to begin, this crew is primarily made up of Norwegian brothers. They're full blooded, speak the language fluently and have fishermen blood coursing through their veins for generations upon generations. They've been regulars on and off for years. I've been tending bar for 20-years and I've seen them come in and out here that entire time. One more so than the others, but the captain Sig, has definitely taken up everything this bar has had to offer."

Suddenly Trig had a light go off in his head and paused. "You're not a reporter or anything, are you? Cause I will be the first to deny everything I'm saying here if someone comes back to facts check," he laughed, half kidding.

"No, I'm just a patron, no reporting being done. Only for my curiosity"

Content with the answer, he continued. "When this place was the Elbowroom, this was genuinely one of the gritty, thrown-down types of bar. There'd be fights, we wouldn't condone them but we also didn't stop them. They'd take it outside, come back in and whoever was in the wrong often rang that bell over there," he pointed, "and would offer up an entire round to whoever was inside," smiling, "myself included. There'd be days where everyone in here was drunker than the next." Seeing her look of somewhat disgust, "ma'am, we don't have much up here to do, so we drink. We fight, we fuck and we fish."

Taking a sip of her drink, she looked to him "continue…"

"Well Sig here, when he started coming up here he was just a kid; late teens. He would get drunk out of his mind and one of resident females on the island showed him a good time just over there," he said, watching as Viv turned to see where he was pointing. A dimly lit hall, cramped quarters to say the least; she had a bit of her old self bubble to the surface wondering how kindly Jules would take to that piece of information. 'Yeah, so Jules, your husband became a man in a bar hall for the rest to see by the resident whore.' Viv had to rethink her motives and why she was here. Yet again, this would be just another piece of information she's come along that would remain with her and only her.

"Drugs for awhile flowed through here freely. Cocaine was the choice drug among the crews for its ability to give them boundless energy. It was something Captain Phil would use regularly to keep him up for days on end. It didn't really tarnish his image either it just explained why he was able to be up so long. There were no secrets among crew members here. Again, fishermen fuck, fight and fish. It's a saying that's that rawest, truest reality up here. But a lot also use up here. There are uppers and downers, but the use has really died down since unions and other administrations came in here and revamped a lot of things in the 90's. The hay day was all the way through the 80's. Debauchery in its top form; but it was fun."

"So did that captain use up here?"

"Sig dabbled, he tried almost everything but he at the end would just stick to the women and whiskey. Eventually when he had a good woman back home, he just kept to the whiskey. His other crew members I couldn't say the same thing about. He has two brothers," Trig said, not having the slightest clue that the mere mention of his two other brothers made Viv's heart and stomach sink. "Norman is an odd fucker," Trig laughed, his language very loose, "man hardy said a word in all the times he's been up here. He was the cleanest, wouldn't try a single drug nor dabble with a single woman, but did drink like a fish. He could polish off a bottle in a night, and still seemed relatively unfazed. I'm convinced those Norwegians have alcohol running through their veins, not blood."

Viv laughed, "They sound like my husband," she retorted, feeling she needed to say something to urge along the conversation to what she was most desperate to hear about. In some ways things internally were screaming at her to plug her ears, chant 'la la la la la, I don't hear this' yet at the same time, she'd have cold hard truth coming from this bartender on whether her husband had been telling her the truth when she tried so hard to pry.

"I kind of feel sorry for the other Hansen, Edgar," Trig sighed, using his bar towel to rub down a water ring Viv's glass had left. "He really got hit hard by his taste for the coke." Switching out glasses, automatically refilling for Viv just assuming, "I was here the night he first very apprehensively tried it and I knew it wouldn't end well with how lively and jovial he became. It was like every good characteristic in him was enhanced and he became the life of the party. I still remember how he kept saying 'this is fucking great, I feel awesome' because initially it was comical, then it became a bit disturbing when he hadn't come down and was still all hopped up. That night they had just finished off their Opilio season and he and Phil were the ones to shut down the joint. It was like that day woke a beast and for years I've seen him try to take it head on and clean up."

Viv's ears were deceiving her, she couldn't comprehend the story she already knew, but was being told to her so uncensored and factual to what her husband tried telling her. "For years after, his older brother Sig would confide in me to the best of his ability that he felt responsible and at fault for his addiction. Many times his drunken binges would be fueled by the guilt he felt for being the one to first introduce his younger brother to it. Sig used but used briefly, Edgar was a repeat offender and I often thought of him when he'd head back to Seattle, thinking if he used when he was down there, or if that was solely for when he was up this way."

Viv fell into deep thought thinking all throughout their courtship if what Trig was describing of Edgar, she saw when they were together down in Seattle. Edgar's claims were that he only used up there, and per Trig's descriptions of what Edgar was like when high, Viv knew her husband was honest when he said it was only in Dutch where he dabbled.

"He changed or seemed to change every season I saw him. He never found comfort in the women down here, maybe once or twice when his face first started showing up here, but that may be wrong information. He was just our drinking user, never synonymous with women. He, like Sig, did calm down substantially when he found a woman back home. She was the topic of discussion many a nights, especially when he started throwing around the marriage idea. We always give men up here shit about it when the start talking marriage, they always change, they always end up whipped or somehow less of the rugged man we've grown up with."

"Did he change at all? You'd think it would be harder having a family back home, rather than a swinging bachelor lifestyle where you didn't have a worry left behind…"

Trig stopped to think, clearly going back into the recesses of his mind to find out whether Edgar did change. "You know, parts of him did. He was a lot calmer, seemed to go through periods where he would have severe homesickness, miss his family. You could so clearly see the rollercoaster ride the marriage was causing for him. She was hard on him; his biggest complaint was the guilt that she made him feel. He stands out among the sea of fishermen because he seemed so troubled with how his marriage was going."

"How is that?"

Completely oblivious to the fact they had already spent a good half hour on just Edgar alone, Trig continued, enjoying this give and take conversation he and this lady were having. "She made him feel guilty for being up here despite Edgar having mentioned she came from some kind of fishing background. He laid his cards all out to her, or at least was telling us he was. When they finally got married for the first couple years there seemed to be no issues. But then things started getting rocky when they had their first kid. I think when his second kid came around, his son, things really fractured. He drank so heavily up here when they came back, he was just sick to himself that he had missed the birth. We never really understood the personal demons he had or the issues with his marriage, but all of us could see he began to change."

Viv began feeling like she was marching up to a firing squad, her guilt so palpable and undeniable, this honest look at how she was to her husband and how it affected him was becoming too much to hear.

"When that King Crab season ended not that long ago, maybe a season or two, I've never seen what I saw with someone that night. He came in here, didn't speak to a soul, kept to himself and just sat there, hood up, drinking so fast and so much, it was like he was trying desperate to forget something or … I can't really place it. He was inconsolable. He had an 'emergency flight' back to Seattle but they wouldn't be taking off for a few hours. His brother sat next to him, not saying a word, but just him being next to Edgar was so bizarre. We left them alone."

"Ever find out what happened?"

"When Edgar left, he went on the flight alone. Sig came back here, just before closing, and just had the world biggest meltdown I think I ever bear witness to. Some kind of screwball threat came from his wife, messed up his brother pretty bad to the point that Sig was worried for him. He was going to go back to make sure he was alright and "didn't do anything stupid" but he couldn't leave the boat with the start up of Opilio so quickly. He was already now a man short; he couldn't leave his crew to 4-men. We never really found out the details, or really, I never found out the details, but I can say that man has not been the same since. He had come in here since then as a raging alcoholic, coming in with his own bottles, while also drinking our supply. He hasn't been himself since."

"Do you think it's the job that did him in?"

"Absolutely not; I watched this man grow up in this profession, season after season, year after year. He loves this job, it's all he knows and he at one point loved it. He became full share, trained in as a captain, it was his life. It's the marriage that screwed him up and then the kids that gave his wife leverage. He also made side comments about his constant worry that their mother wasn't a good mother to his children. Little things he'd obsess over that she'd say or do. It ate away at him. I'd be surprised if after this last blow up we ever see Edgar up here again."

In brief but awkward silence, Viv sat in shock as Trig moved from their end of the bar to the other when a few rough looking patrons walked in. Dirty up to their eye balls they had been working on a vessel in the ship yard and needed a break. Since happy hour didn't exist at Latitudes, since every hour was happy hour, the men sat and talked amongst themselves as Trig once again returned to Viv.

"They've had a lot of drama on that boat in recent seasons, because then another deckhand of theirs found out mid-season that his father had disappeared. Literally a missing persons case somewhere up in Washington. It's like a sudden black cloud began to torment and follow that crew, and with the Hansen's as superstitious as they are, Sig couldn't handle all the 'bad juju'. He has been obsessing about things he can do to alleviate all their problems, but at last check, things are still pretty messed up for him and his crew."

"Wow," was all Viv could muster up. "What a heavy conversation," she said trying her hardest to use a genuine laugh to brush off all the emotions her body and mind were raging with.

"And then this crew…" he said, taking off another picture on the wall of the crew from Time Bandit. "I don't even know where to begin with these guys…" Trig roared to life with laughter, but it was all for not, as Viv tuned him out, deep in her own thoughts now with all the information she just had received about her husband.

The reality seemed pretty grim that she could ever undo all she had done and caused for her husband. He was damaged goods now, all done by the hands of his spouse that pledged to honor and love him till death do they part. Throwing a $20 down on the counter, Viv left the bar in one swift movement. Her eyes streaked with tears as she tried searching for the red car through her blurred teary vision. She had been there nearly two hours. Two hours that would kick start the events needing to take place in order for her to ever try and reconcile with her husband. The feeling of being mortified of her actions, the level of shame she felt and the worry that it was too late flashed before her. "I need help," she confessed, making her act of contrition to the empty parking lot surrounding her. "I have been so unspeakably wrong, so devastatingly terrible and awful to the man I still love." Waiting for a familiar red car to appear, the sky opened up with a clap of thunder in this unpredictable climate she was in. As the rain began coming down, harder in its intensity, it felt poetically justifiable. It suited her mood, where she could no longer shed anymore tears; Mother Nature did so for her.


	11. Chapter 10

**Author's Note:** Not sure what's been up with the website, it's been a bit wonky for me. This would have been up on Friday, but I kept getting loading errors no matter where I tried connection or what computer I attempted it on. Looks like it's finally working now, so after a bit of frustration, here's the overdue Chapter 10. This coming Wednesday I am heading out to do some backcountry camping and backpacking in Wyoming, so the update for this week shall appear on Tuesday if I can get 11 done by then. Fair warning, it will be quite long. In other news, keep your fingers crossed for our Unalaska/Dutch guys, they've had record rain fall and some pretty brutal conditions that have been reported back to me from out on the fishing grounds. 62 knot winds have been recorded, and a few of the vessels out there are waiting out the weather in Dutch. When the weathers bad, the fishings usually good, so you know some of those Time Bandit boys are yeehaw'ing right about now. Anyways, my apologies for funky uploading on my part, look for more to come very soon. With that, _in no way, shape or form is this a true story. All crew from the Deadliest Catch (eg: Northwestern, Cornelia Marie, Time Bandit, etc) are the rightful owners of trademark and registered publishing for their specific namesakes. I make no claims of ownership; I am just a writer, doing what I love._

_

* * *

_

Seeing Emh's face appear like a vision as the sun met her in the darkened corner, Edgar's train of thought evaded him in the worst way possible; in the middle of an interview, amid his brothers by both blood and bond. It was an embarrassing scenario that played out in his head as he retreated to his only visible escape route. The morning sun temporarily blinded him from the dark which he came, jarring him for a brief moment as he fumbled his hands to a front pocket where he had a few pall malls left. Leaning against the back of the building, with an inability to shake the many feelings and sensations he was experiencing, his muscles began to tense all throughout his upper back and neck.

Coincidentally enough, he had just spoken to Sig less than 24 hours before about the girl named Emh that he came across. While trying in earnest to keep the tone of his voice even, not hinting at any sort of feelings, Edgar knew Sig wasn't dense. From what Edgar gathered too, bits and pieces had been leaked by Norman; Sig didn't seem surprised to hear that there was an "Emh".

"What are you going to do about Viv, Edgar? You're still a married man."

While everything in Sig knew a final separation of Edgar and Viv would be the best thing for his little brother, he was still married. So for there to already be 'another woman,' Sig frowned. His deep seeded Lutheran values and appreciation for the sanctity of marriage made Sig uneasy about the road his brother was traveling down. "You're not getting serious with her, are you? How do you know this _girl_ isn't into you because of this show?"

Edgar laughed. That was often a quirky nervous tick that reared its face when things got sticky. "She's not like that. Besides, this isn't anything. She's essentially my neighbor while I'm up here."

Sig didn't buy it; he was always suspicious of sudden strange behaviors and Edgar was exhibiting a lot of them. Initially assuming it was in part due to his wife's leaving, when Edgar started throwing out this females name left and right, Sig grew apprehensive. "So do I get to meet this gal, or is she going to be some hidden gem of yours that helps you conquer this quandary you're in?"

While appreciative that his older brother was concerned, he didn't exactly find merit for his unnecessary rude sarcasm. "I'm not sure. Introducing her to people, let alone family would make it seem like we're together, _and we're not_. What I most need for you to understand Sig is this _woman_ has helped me in some pretty unimaginable ways. Yes, I have capitalized on her ignorance of who we are and what we do, it's a breath of fresh air. It's like it feels just how it did 7-years ago, before we first started this show. Don't you ever wonder or wish you could go back to then?"

In a firm, but hardly believable "no" Sig cut that conversation short. "We're not going down that road Edgar. I made the decision to be on this show and I don't regret it. We've paid a priceless homage to our ancestors who have pioneered our way to being the fishermen we are able to be today. I don't regret for a moments time of putting the Northwestern vessel, nor the Hansen name in lights. Our family would be proud."

As Sig slowly climbed off his pedal stool, Edgar had to chime in with a jab, "ya done there Capt?"

With a heavy, smokers-induced laugh, Sig hadn't a response. "Don't be foolish," he eventually chimed back, "If she's just helping you out, then there's nothing to fret over, but if you start feeling something for her, which by my sneaking suspicion I think is already too late, you're going to need to pull back before things get messy. She may make you feel grounded and normal again, but the real world is still there, Edgar. We may not be Hollywood's elite, but we're a household name up here. People catch on, and you're going to wish you had thought this out a bit more."

While Edgar knew somewhere Sig was right, it wasn't the way the conversation was supposed to play out. He called his brother merely to bounce off ideas and get feedback on if his marriage was worth saving. Somehow though, before that was even allowed out, conversations quickly turned towards Emh and never looked back. His talks with Norman were far more fruitful. Norman wasn't the relationship type, he was never one to really settle down, nor even see a point to it. He had every ounce of fishermen blood possible, sent down from generation to generation, and that's what he knew was his meant to be. So he never was one to get caught up in the whole love game. Never had, and never will he surmised.

Norman had become the perfect confidant for Edgar when his first hint of feelings came for Emh. While their friendship barely spanned a week at this point, Edgar's letters he had started journaling, turned into phone calls directly to Norman. They were often lengthy, with Norman just listening, hearing his little brother speak of the feelings he started accepting, the fear of his addiction sneaking back into his life, the desperation he had in trying to sort out how to handle his wife or if things were finally beyond repairing. Every once in awhile a profound statement was to escape from the mind of Norman, who as being a complete observer majority of his life, was able to take in so many scenarios and solve them quietly in his head.

"You know, I have to admit to you, Edgar, I don't think there really has been a single solution or a real fix to any of your problems. Furthermore, I feel they have been bandaged just enough to solve it for the moment, and the next thing you know, we were off for another season of fishing. Viv capitalized on your schedule, your weaknesses and your exhaustion. She would not believe for a moments passing that you were as worked as you were, nor allow you to express your sorrows or fears when we lost another brother at sea. I do not like or dislike people, I find they better fall into a category of tolerable or not. I've tolerated her for your sake, to keep peace, to force a smile because at one point in time, she was a decent gal. But that all faded over the years and now I cannot stand to see how she mistreats my niece and nephew, but especially my brother."

It was with stark realization that this must be a subject Norman was passionate about; he had just spoken more words to Edgar than he ever had. "Does she have feelings for you too?" He asked, too curious not to.

"I don't know. I didn't even know I had feelings for her until they just smacked me in the face."

"Well more about her; is she just a fling, a play on your heart strings, or someone you see a future with?"

"That's far more of an involved answer than I've given thought to."

"Bullshit."

Edgar knew his brother was right, but he wasn't about to sit there, thinking of a life with a new woman, _with Emh_, but he was guilty. He had. He allowed his imagination to soar after Raven came into the picture. A dog for his children, a woman who, though no children of her own, just seemed to have a shining potential at being a mother, a kind and gentle heart that would bear burdens of a man she hardly knew…

The silence over the phone gave Norman all the confirmation he needed that his brother grew more serious by the question for this woman he seemed to have such an affinity for. But as Norman is, he did not want to meet her until things were resolved with Viv. "I will always side with family, no matter how wrong you are or how dumb of a decision you make. But I don't want to get involved in the affairs of Viv when it concerns you two, because my personal restraints on not lashing out at her have become obsolete after last year. I don't want to know Emh until it's a sure thing, and if it never becomes one, then I haven't missed anything."

Edgar was rubbed wrongly with that last thought of Normans, but to each their own. Sig was the complete opposite, he insisted he needed to see this girl if she ever happened to come around. Sig would fight for the front seat on the "Get Rid of Viv" bandwagon, because like his brother, Viv's appearance in their lives had been one of tolerance since they were in their late teens. She always seemed "a bit off" Sig had finally confessed, but his lack of speaking up after all these years left Edgar to wonder if he was genuine in his feelings, or if he was just trying to make him feel a little better in the hard decisions he was bound to face.

"You've got to look at it like this too," Sig said during their most recent call, taking a drag on a cigarette as he saw his wife walk in with Edgar's son in tow, "what if she changes. Somehow miraculously changes over night. Would that change your feelings? For all we know she could have checked into some therapy place, and realizing all she's done wrong, or has some kind of divine intervention or epiphany?"

"I would always wonder if it's sincere. But I think you're trying to go about a different answer Sig, and I will say this. My decisions about Viv are not encouraged or shaped by Emh. Emh would be a benefit to a separation of Viv and me, but Emh's not a guarantee either. I have no idea if she feels anything for me. Besides, she's so young, I have often wondered if she doesn't see me more as a father figure or older brother, than someone she could be courted by."

Putting out his cigarette, letting the smoke clear before he picked up Junior, "someone wants to say hello," Sig said into the receiver. With the phone held closely to Junior, he chanted over and over again "Dad! Dad! Dad! Dad," that caused an immediate ache and soaring of emotions from Edgar.

"Hey little guy; how's my favorite son?"

The indistinct chatter from Junior just caused all the more questions for him. Viv was not a fit mother, let alone a fit parent when she was doing most of the rearing. Edgar hated that side of his job that would remove him for his kids for so long, especially knowing the kind of care he suspected them to have. In endless debt to Sig's wife Jules, the thought of them being better off without a constant presence of their mother was just another reason that favored a total separation of him and his wife.

With Sig back on the line "he is looking more and more like me every day," Sig laughed. And while that may sound awkward, it was actually true. The towhead Junior had sky blue eyes, nearly white blonde hair, and dimples. Far more like Sig than his own father, but no doubt either way that he was a Hansen.

Having taken the phone back, Junior scooted off Sig's lap and went chasing after Jules who was making a lot of racket and getting together a lunch for the four of them. "Well whatever happens, you know your children are always safe with us here. If you end up doing mediation with Viv or end up in some ugly divorce, we will keep them here to avoid any traumatic exposure."

While the admission from Sig that his children would be safe, come whatever may happen was relief, Edgar had a hard time with the word "divorce". It had such a stigma to it, a connotation of failure and giving up. So often people throw in the towel without any regard to making an effort at fixing it; but when tribulations and copious amounts of problems make up the entirety of a marriage, how can it be fixed? Distance was causing Edgar's heart to mend in ways that it hadn't before; the wounds were actually healing, rather than loose stitching only to be ripped open whenever Viv had it in her. A lot could be said for why he was healing, but truth was, it was the time. Time away from her, from problems, from fishing; it allowed him an opportunity to take inventory of his own feelings and fears and then most importantly, make sense of it all. The slow progression of things as days kept moving forward, started to reaffirm his most troubled, secret, and longest assumption to date: his marriage with Viv would never make it.

"You need to bring her around, you hear?" Sig piped up, bringing Edgar back from his trailing thoughts. "I want to meet her. Set something up at your place where she could come over, or let me tag along when she has something you're needed for. I want to size her up for myself…"

"Well, wait a minute! You're acting like she's some woman I'm having an affair with. I don't have a clue if she feels anything for me, for all I know she could be freaked out and get the hell out of dodge if she finds out I have some sort of feelings for her. You have to realize Sig, she and I have known each other less than a week."

"But your week is a lot longer than most peoples, you do realize, right? We're given about 3 months a year where we're humanized. So a week within 3 months is a lot, if you look at it that way. Besides, from what you've mentioned, and this is just of what you've mentioned, which I assume there's a whole hell of a lot that you haven't, you two started off with some heavy stuff."

"Nothing has been conventional or traditional with her. Everything about this and her has been so unique. I can't exactly say how, or even why, but nothing has felt like this before."

"Even when you first met Viv?"

"That's what's so troubling. I've never had any kind of feelings like this throughout my entire time with Viv. And that's before marriage all the way through our marriage. Something is just entirely unique to Emh."

"It could be the fact that you're grasping for straws here, Edgar. You're not exactly in an emotionally stable spot. You're kind of all over the emotional board lately, and she could be remedying the area you need extra attention in. It's not to discredit her or deny your feelings for her, but perhaps they're so intense because she's feeding a need that has been starved for so long?"

A low grumble escaped Edgar's lips. 'Doesn't he realize I've thought that already? Doesn't he think that even in as few days as this has been that I realize for me, this is already pretty substantial? All things considered, I do have a wife and marriage still intact, at least legally speaking,' Edgar groaned to himself. "While there's a possibility that you're entirely right, it doesn't solve anything for me. My wife is gone, my marriage has been over for years, and I just don't know how to tackle this. You can lie to yourself so long that you start believing it, Sig. I should have been out of this marriage well before the kids came along."

"Well, then do something about this. Track her down and sort this out. See if your marriage is done for good, or if it can be worked out. I want what's best for you, of course," Sig said, but in the same breath "more importantly though, I want to make sure my niece and nephew are safe and taken care of."

"You and me both," Edgar replied almost instantaneously.

"See you tomorrow, put your best face forward, if nothing else, don't say anything, just nod in agreement with me," Sig laughed. And with that, the conversation ended there. Multiple thoughts and ideas all leading in different directions now plagued Edgar, as he had to ready and brace himself for the possibility of facing a firing squad tomorrow. He knew Mike was paid to provoke him into "good tv" – he would be asking the loaded questions, perhaps striking below the belt a time or two, but the conversation would inevitably lead to his blow up during this past season, and what provoked it. Everything was on the fly though, no prep or prescreening type shoots took place, it was raw, unedited, and left him wide open and exposed to a multitude of possibilities.

As morning came, the day of the shoot, a dozen or two ounce of coffee raced through his system as he pulled from his driveway. Emh's place seemed already lively; she was probably on the lake. Sighing as he drove past, a few flutters provoked his senses as he tried focusing on what was to come. He hadn't seen any of the crew or fellow sailors since he left Dutch, which as it were, already felt like it was months ago.

Pulling into the area of Seattle as told by his brother, he knew Sig wouldn't be there as early as he was, but Edgar would rather be early than late or even on time. Familiar crew members for Discovery walked about, and when Keith from production found him he whisked him away to Agatha, a golden aged makeup artist; a transplant from Greece with a heavy accent and a proclivity for pinching the guy's cheeks, she brought a whimsical vibe and stories from yester year. Deep down Edgar was glad he only saw her once a year, she often made him uneasy and she always overdid her perfume.

Waiting about with a few other crew members, two being his friends Jake and Josh Harris, the men shared a few laughs as they all smoked and waited for the filming to start. They were part of section 2 segment, about 40 minutes into the filming. Both Jake and Josh had heard about Edgar's blow up, but being used to an array of outbursts and yelling matches themselves, it was nothing newsworthy or worth prying about. There were far more interesting things to the men, then to stand around sharing their personal feelings and dwelling on their pasts. A head nod and an arm slap was all that was needed, from there they'd move on.

As it came time for their segment, the men were all wired with mics and told where to sit. Taking place on the end next to his brother Sig, Edgar waved down an Irish coffee and kept to strictly black. A few sentences into his first real interaction with Mike, one he could have predicted right down to the insinuation, he saw her. There in this glorious morning sun, Emh's unexpected face fell right into his line of sight. His breath was caught, his mind went blank and then panic set in. He tried to back pedal, laugh it off, but all he could gather was that the jig was up. His week of bliss, his secret oasis was now lost, he was exposed, he was found out.

Rather than anger spreading or even worry, he just needed a moment to gather himself and took off at the first second he could. His eyes were unable to take themselves off hers. She stood watching him; her eyes were still kind, showing no signs other than that very kindness he was accustomed to. But still, he blew past her, in part due to the shock but the other because of the embarrassment. He just flubbed big time in front of all his friends and fellow sailors and would now have a lot of explaining to do to several people.

A moment of relief hit him as the stale smoke-filled air turned to a fresh, crisp breeze as he made his way out the only door he saw. Flooded by emotions and thoughts that varied from one to the next, he hadn't much time to himself before she came out. She didn't come at him, did not vent a hundred different ways of how he was a liar, nor did she treat him any different. Instead, she asked if he was okay. Backing away, as if intimidated, Emh stated her peace to the questions he asked her. But when her apology came, it made Edgar feel all the worse for his refraining to admit the truth. Frankly, he was never anticipating Emh becoming such a staple in his life so soon, let alone at all. That wasn't to say he wouldn't have told her eventually, but he was buying time and enjoying living a life that became so addicting. Her ignorance made his life simple, something that up to this point, Edgar felt he had never known.

Realizing no better place than now to divulge everything, Edgar laid it all on the line about who he is, what he does. As if he was able to hide it any longer anyway. It went over smoothly as he had hoped it would, but his revelation to her that his brother wanted to meet her, seemed to surprise her.

"Your brother" she reiterated, "that blonde one inside?"

Edgar couldn't help but laugh, between the look on her face and the tone she had, it somehow relieved him. She was a gal to take things in stride, he realized, it was like being in her presence gave him the courage to take on things and the capacity to do so. As if she calmed his constantly shaking nerves, and pacified him while doing so. "Yeah, but I imagined this going a lot different I have to confess…"

Her look was almost priceless. Just because he had already accepted his feelings for her and told both his brothers about her, it was easy to forget she was completely oblivious of them. And it showed. She was considerate enough to not call him out on his slip up, but seemed opened to talking with Sig. "I'm sorry I wasn't up front about things. I should have realized you're different after the first time we met, but I didn't want to rock the boat."

Emh just looked at him and laughed. "I feel like we should hug or something," she said, feeling the heat in her cheeks come alive. Her hue changed from a light pink, getting darker the longer the silence between them was left to linger. Her heart began to rapidly beat at the embarrassment she felt realizing she was trying to initialized some sort of physical contact with a married man. Shaking her head, looking down, unable to make eye contact, she was taken back at the feeling of his embrace.

"Darlington, I'll ask you once, nicely, but you only get me nice once. After that I'll just move you," Sig said, eyeing Darlington as he was trying with effort to reach the door his brother stormed out of almost ten minutes before.

"I can't let you."

"Why?"

"I just can't."

"It's my brother, we can't hold up production all day long, now move." Sig said with authority, and meaning what he said earlier, he pushed past him with little effort. Darlington wasn't going to get on Sig's bad side because of Emh or Edgar. He hadn't a clue what was going on between those two, but who was he to stop Sig if Sig wanted to know. Enough time had passed anyhow, 'whatever they were doing, they had done long enough' he laughed to himself, a tinge of jealousy adding a bit of flare to his thought.

Sig reached for the door, but it didn't open. Instead, it made a clanking nose. He hadn't fully engaged the lock, but it was just enough noise that on the other side, tipped the two off that someone was trying to come out.

The door finally swung open, with Edgar in view now, lighting up a fresh cigarette, and his eyes fixed to the sky. "What in the hell are you doing?" Sig asked. Now, for those that did not normally interact with Sig would have assumed he was coming off as confrontational or brash, but truth be told, he actually sounded quite normal to Edgar.

Facing him, eyes surprisingly calm looking to Sig, "I needed a few minutes, I was caught off guard." Edgar was being careful with his wording, Sig not on to the fact that Emh was here, was just going to assume he meant the questioning from Mike, not the fact that Emh was what really shocked him.

"You knew it was coming, Mike even knew it. None of us were surprised, how would you be?"

"Well, no, you're right. I wasn't surprised or shocked by anything he said."

"Then what gives? What's the deal?"

And just then, Edgar's heart began to pick up pace. "Sig, this is Emh" he nodded towards her. Spinning on his heel, Sig caught sight of the woman leaning against the stone planter. She was not what he was expecting, farthest thing from it, to be blunt. Unable to think of the millions of things he would say to her when he finally met her, he too took a moment to blurt out the words "Oh…" a few more moments passed, "I'm Sig, Captain of the Northwestern."

Edgar laughed; he often wondered if Sig introduced himself as that to everyone. "Nice to meet you, postmaster, I'm Sig, Captain of the Northwestern" … "oh yes, officer, nice to meet you, I'm Sig, Captain of the Northwestern." Edgar's mind was evading the obvious scenario unfolding before him, by entertaining his thoughts with the volleys of Sig introducing himself to an array of people. "I really wonder if he does that" he thought again. Odds are he probably did.

"Nice to meet you," Edgar heard her reply, granted a bit of a softer tone than he was used to from her, "I'm Emhilese Bastyr".

Sig looked back to his brother a smug look had appeared on Edgar's face. An exchange of looks on the brother's faces was priceless, but it did not give away their thoughts. "So you work for Discovery?" Sig provoked the conversation, "is that why you're here?"

Edgar made a move to butt in but before he could, Emh replied "no, actually Darlington is someone I know. I met him within the first few days after my move from out of state. He works for Discovery. Before Edgar, he was the only person I knew here. He said I could tag along in efforts to expose me to what he does and maybe network to find a job out here. As I told Edgar, I will tell you," she said, trying he hardest despite being nervous, to stand firm against the intimidating older Hansen. "I had no clue of this show or Edgar's involvement until I saw him walk up on set. I'm still in the dark about a lot of things, but as I stand here and watch this filming, I'm learning."

"Huh" was all Sig managed to mutter out. She was definitely not what he was expecting. She was articulate, but kind. Had a softer approach than the abrasive and demeaning nature of Viv. She looked a lot younger than she was, apparently, and further vindicated Sig's preference of calling her a "girl" than a woman. But before now, it was to accentuate his displeasure and disapproval, now it felt because she looked like such a young female, that she was still a girl and not a woman.

"So do you have feelings for my brother?" Sig didn't do games or bullshit. He didn't have time. He also knew Edgar had wasted 30-years of his life on a bad woman, and he wasn't going to take it easy on Emh despite how difficult it seemed to come down hard on her. She genuinely seemed nice, and Sig didn't like that. No one comes off like she does and is genuine, there was something flawed and he was determined to find out what it was. Perhaps he would piss Edgar off in the process, but it's best to weed out potential issues before they become full blown problems.

Edgar couldn't believe what he had heard. Standing defensively, Sig put his hand out to the chest of his approaching brother, as he suddenly put Emh on the spot. "I suppose I could have a better tactic at approaching this, but I know my brother, I know how things work. I may be overstepping my boundaries a bit and making a mess out of things that I have no business meddling with, but I need to know. It'll help him if he knows, too."

"You do NOT have to answer that question, Emh," Edgar said to her, pushing Sig's hand from off of his chest. Looking at Sig, his eyes pierced holes into him and his looks threw daggers.

"Actually, I think she does, don't you want to know Emh that Edgar…"

Unsure of where this was leading, having never seen Sig take such an initiative in something he had absolutely no business dealing with. "Sig, please" Edgar announced, loudly and with as much authority as he could muster.

"No Edgar, it's fine," Emh said trying her best at reassuring, "what do you think I need to know Sig?" Emh pushed on. Despite addressing Sig, her eyes never left Edgar's.

"I can't be around for this," Edgar stated, putting out his cigarette and heading for the door Sig was blocking. Emh reached out for Edgar's arm, but was startled when Sig caught it. Moving a few paces back, Sig continued to block Edgar's only exit. Emh watched the exchange between Sig and Edgar. With little fight, Edgar gave in, he closed his eyes and appeared to physically tense. Finally releasing Emh's hand, Sig took in the sight before him, and then without hesitation, spoke.

"Emh, it seems Edgar's in love with you"

* * *

_Wise men say, only fools rush in. But I can't help falling in love with you. Shall I stay would it be a sin, if I can't help falling in love with you?_


	12. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:** Man the last two weeks of my life have been quite the rollercoaster. Since we last met, there's been a 3500 mile road trip to Yellowstone, a snow storm, and two deaths. Amazing what the human psyche can endure. There's a plethora of excuses I could use for the delay in this chapter, but I'll save you the time. Chapter 11 is here, Chapter 12 will quickly follow as I'm working on it now. I would like to try and get us up to speed so we're on track and chap 13 be uploaded this coming Friday. We'll see. I'm going to try. In other news, there have been several spotted SAR's around the Alaskan Sea waters so lets hope, pray, send good vibes and cross our fingers for our guys out fishing. They're still facing some incredible seas! With that, _in no way, shape or form is this a true story. All crew from the Deadliest Catch (eg: Northwestern, Cornelia Marie, Time Bandit, etc) are the rightful owners of trademark and registered publishing for their specific namesakes. I make no claims of ownership; I am just a writer, doing what I love._

* * *

For a brief moment, it seemed all time stopped between the three individuals whom stood outside the docks of Daniel's Broiler. All three of which were thinking dramatically different things. And in a moment breaking silence, Emh cleared the air.

"Bullshit."

It prompted Sig to laugh heartily. He turned to Edgar, slapping the side of his arm "I _guess I can_ say I like this one," he continued in his laugh, turning around and disappearing from where he came.

Edgar's eyes tried desperately to catch Emh's stare, but her eyes evaded his. It became obvious she did not want to look at him, spurning his heart and bringing about a fury of rage in him towards his older brother for mucking things up. She wasn't a lost cause, but now she was going to be a chase to get things back to where they were, never mind where they could have been going. Unsure of what he wanted to do, not knowing the right words to say or if it was his moment to speak now, he hushed himself and let the silence permeate their surroundings. He wondered if thoughts were swirling through her head like they were in his; he wasn't certain if his brother was really that far off in the supposed revelation he announced to Emh, but it definitely wasn't how he anticipated ever telling her of his feelings. Let alone dropping the word "love" in the mix so soon; things were already complicated.

Sig just managed to make it worse.

* * *

Throwing up wouldn't exactly have been the best way to respond to what Sig just told her, Emh thought to herself trying to get a grip on reality. Some life altering things had been revealed in such a short time. However, be that as it may, it gave her a lot to think about. While allowing her neighbor to vent his frustrations and reveal sides of him most didn't see, Emh never had a chance to really broadcast who she was to this man who had apparently fallen in love with her. There were a lot of things about her not typical of someone her age. She too had a history, one she had yet to explain or tell him. It caused for her 'bullshit' response, because fact was Emh thought that was the truth. At best, infatuation was most likely but 'love'?

"Hardly," she surmised.

Despite liking the idea of knowing Edgar had feelings for her, it cast an awkward shadow over the friendship they had been creating. How could they go on with where they were, knowing what was said? Truth too, she was unable to look at Edgar now without feeling the blush creep across her cheeks, a hue bringing a fiery flush to life.

What happened to make matters worse was Emh liked him. Love was a far stretch; an 'out there' scenario she supposed happens to people, but never had she felt it in her 25-years of life. The whimsy of love, the allure and thought is definitely intriguing to her, but Emh had a guarded surface that was hell bent on avoiding such emotions. Eventually in due time, that guard was to rear its ugly face to Edgar; it was only inevitable.

* * *

In a rare attempt at a comedic outburst, Edgar looked to Emh "So, I was thinking we could just, ya know, elope?"

That got her attention.

Emh looked to him; she saw his kind eyes, a hopeful smile and a God-fearing look cast across his face. She sighed, "Well, I was going to go to the movies, but sure, that sounds like a great idea?" Her tone left the statement lingering in the air as if it were a question and not a response.

Edgar was alarmed at her joke, but the fact she wasn't appalled or spooked off caused a resonating jubilation he would desperately try to keep under wraps. Her reaction didn't give the indication that she was mortified by what Sig said; 'love' didn't have her running for the hills. In a moment of sober humility, Edgar spoke again in a soft, fragile voice "Can we talk about this later?" His eyes appeared to plea with her, 'be gentle, I can't bear another tumultuous relationship' and as Edgar would eventually come to find, his Emh offered a tender, soothing "no problem," and in that moment it washed away his pained anxiety. Then, Edgar's eyes locked with hers, finally; his voice struggled to sound sure of its self as he mustered up enough gusto to thank her. Her flush began to dance across her face, lighting from cheek to cheek; "I should probably get back in there," he noted, his heart rate beating a little faster as her gaze grew intense, piercing his eyes with her own.

Looking to his watch, he fumbled to right it to read the time. They had been out there nearly 20 minutes. "That's probably a good idea," she agreed, "They don't look like they would be a very patient bunch". Laughing only slightly, feelings of flirtation desperate to boil over and see where this could go with Edgar, Emh instead pulled back feeling coy. Watching Edgar's body language become clumsy, she laughed and walked to the door where she grabbed the handle and nodded towards the darkened entrance. Smiling, his heart leapt with joy that they were parting on a good note, despite all that had been said.

Anticipating the feeling of Emh following him in, Edgar was surprised to see that after the door closed behind him, he was walking in alone. He felt comfortable though that they had good footing to end on, that somewhere, eventually they could start up where they left off and avoid the awkward tension that could of so easily consumed their future conversations.

Smiling to himself, Edgar was content. Seeing the table come into view, smoke rings flittering about, he returned to his place noting the extra stools now closing the gap, creating a perfect circle around the table.

"We good?" Mike asked Edgar, unaware that Edgar's storming off had nothing to do with the pressure of the questions.

"Never had a problem, Mike, just needed a minute and some fresh air." Without skipping a beat, Sig looked to Edgar and grinned. He looked like the cat that got the canary. Grinning ear to ear, clearly feeling the Irish coffee, he patted his brother on the shoulder, then grabbed the back of Edgar's neck and squeezed tightly. Those who were present but not privy to the conversations minutes prior, let the whole situation be. The sailors didn't pry unless they were going to give shit, and often, they did, but not in this setting. It would be when they were on their own turf or in a personal watering hole where they could get a rise out of him for sport. But here and now, with unfamiliar eyes and ears, they just stuck to the script. They did what they were told, talked casually and in some instances, let loose. However, always suspicious and never ones to completely let their guards down, though eased, the men didn't fully trust their surroundings. They were there to fulfill their obligations and then get going.

Filming continued as it had a half hour before. The segment was to be an hour long episode, which after commercial breaks and various fillers, ended up being 40-minutes of dialogue and clips they would piece together from the footage they were gathering now. There was no real theme to the conversations, just another sorted effort to recap a season under their belts, discuss anything out of the ordinary and perhaps pry a bit deeper than the men often cared for such as the case of Edgar and his troubles aboard.

Though friendships have definitely grown stronger in the years of the Deadliest Catch filming, most of these men around the table could not care less of the woes of Edgar's extramarital affairs or the troubles brewing on the Northwestern vessel. They were all cordial and friends to a degree; but they were also competitive fishermen and another man's troubles often meant someone else's fortune. The life of a crab fisherman is unpredictable and unforgiving. No one vessel or crew was immune to the problems Bering Sea fishing could provoke. They've all been there a time or two, and when it came down to it, despite being unique individuals, most of their lives all amounted to the same thing: months and months away from home and family, fatigue and lonely nights. Fractured relationships, missing out on the big and important moments in the lives of their children and often a nagging, incessant question as to why they are where they are, and is it really worth it.

These men aren't so different from each other.

So to say these guys couldn't relate to Edgar would be foolish; Johnathan shared a similar fate with the mother of his child many years before. Andy constantly struggled to avoid the tangles the life of Bering Sea fishermen had; when he wasn't forced to be on the shipyard or captaining the boat for Opilio season, he would land lock himself on a ranch in the Midwest.

Each man had a different way of coping with their alternative lifestyles, a way to try evening out the extremes of one side of their life with another. In essence, they've all been where he is. They would support him, but as they have all been down the road before, it's best left traveled alone so Edgar and Edgar alone could make the decisions best for him, and ultimately have no one to blame but himself in the end.

Eventually word would spread of the conundrum Edgar found himself in, and if by the looks of the three-sheets-to-the-wind-Sig were any indicator, one would bet they would all be aware before the end of the day.

* * *

As the door closed behind Edgar, Emh felt the old yet familiar sensation of an impending panic attack. Long ago were the days when the prickles of fear and breaths of anxiety corrupted her body under immense and intense pressures. Family life often brought her down to breaking points, but before that, she would panic. This instance was entirely different from the typical reasons she used to cave under pressures. This one now was because supposedly someone loved her.

The last thing Emh felt like doing was to return to the room where they were filming, only to feel the stares and threats of impending daggers from Darlington who she knew would press and pry. If she did not somehow manage a nutshell version of all the juicy details in a rapid fire succession, the two of them would almost positively become a disruption to filming. Darlington hadn't any ability to keep quiet upon hearing news for the first time, and this was bound to be gasp-worthy should Emh feel the urge to share. But to the misfortune of Darlington, this wasn't information Emh felt comfortable divulging.

Darlington however was incessant and his tenacity would drive her up a wall. She would be facing both judge and jury should she walk through that door that was staring her down. What was a girl to do?

Her options were very limited, a retaining wall dubbing as a planter box standing tall could be scaled, but she was unsure of what was on the other side. By rights, she could walk the docks, but eventually she'd pass behind the windows where the cameras were aimed out towards and she didn't necessarily want her silhouette coming into view during a take. Walking in, while seemingly most probable, was her last choice because it seemed like a better idea to risk the chances of what lie behind the tall retaining wall, then to face Darlington in all his hyper active, 'need to know everything NOW' glory.

Quietly, Emh opted to scale the wall, mentally praising herself for the lack of girly apparel and convenient attire for scaling such a thing. Her shoes stuck to the wall like they were meant to be used as rock climbers, her jeans weren't so tight she couldn't maneuver in the awkward positions required, and her girls stayed safely in place and out of any potential gawker's vantage point.

Reaching the top of the wall, Emh guesstimated she was ten feet up. Peering over to the other side, she saw a wooden boardwalk; it was the remnants of the docks behind her. In a rare bit of luck, the coast was cleared and in a dumb yet desperate move, she jumped down, feeling a slight twist in her ankle, but remained unscathed. Making quick work of the walkway between the buildings, Emh reached her car and felt eased; she was in the home stretch.

Safely locked in her car, and removing herself from the scene, she knew she would have some heavy explaining to do in the future to a number of individuals, namely two: Darlington and Edgar. Emh knew if something like this had happened back in Minnesota, and she was running away from the scene of the crime, she would have hopped on the phone to her best friend Lynn in seconds flat. Things change, though, and Emh would have to sort this one out on her own.

xXxXx

Arriving back to her home on E Kayak Lake, it was still morning. Leashing up Raven, she piled her dog in the car and was going to head up state on a drive. Driving always cleared her head, and if nothing else, by having Raven with, she had no pressing need to get back into town. Her cell phone sat charging in the beverage cup holder, as Raven's head hung out the window, enjoying the sights and smells of this spring morning.

Driving north, she soon found herself with signs of Fall City passing at each new mile marker. Pulling off, heading towards it, her heart rate elevated as she began asking herself what she was doing. With each curve in the road, it prompted bigger and bigger houses that became further and further spread apart. Emh hadn't any clue which home was Edgars or Sigs. She also would have no prompts to know which was theirs as she had nothing to go off of.

Imagine her surprise then, as she slowly drove through the 25mph "children at play" neighborhood, when two children, about the ages of what she knew Edgar's children to be, were seen playing around outside. The yard was spacious and pristine, the grounds meticulously cared for, lush; but that's not what caught her eye. It was the little towhead boy in a yellow and red car, being pushed around by a girl, no older than 4, with long flowing hair and dimples one could see from yards away.

Trying not to crane her neck, her heart rate elevated beyond measure, as she unintentionally slowed in disbelief. With no confirmation or way of knowing, Emh felt it was his children. There were two elderly looking individuals out beside them and a younger woman further in the back. Their identities were up for speculation but a low lying nausea set in hoping and praying it wasn't Viv. Snapping out of her fixated trance, Emh looked ahead as she continued her 25mph speed. Reaching a fork in the road, she headed east, up by way of a passage that should take her towards Mt. Rainier.

Her head and heart did not need to see the picture she was all too certain was of Edgar's children and his family. He may have fallen for Emh, but she couldn't allow herself to reciprocate. He had _that_, that image that was forever burned into her mind; children, a wife, and doting grandparents to his beautiful babies. It was too little too late for them, their paths crossed far too late in life for them to ever work. It was with little pain that this realization came that she needed to try being the confidant again for Edgar. This time, though, she would stick to her guns on pushing an agenda of repairing what he already had; what he had spent so much and took so long to achieve.

Despite Edgar's story already told, Emh knew she'd never know the true depth of his attempts at repairing his marriage, nor would she ever know the extent of how bad Viv was or wasn't. Emh fled Minnesota to avoid drama, to start off fresh, the last thing she needed was to become another woman in a relationship where there was even the slightest chance of reconciliation for the couple. Emh was certain this was the road she had to take, and if anything came natural to Emh, it was putting up guards and keeping people arms length away.

Driving through Mt. Rainier National Park, her mind was scattered and for once in the time she had been out here, she allowed herself to go back to the place she left, the home she abandoned after so many years. She was surprised she didn't miss it; she loved the home she was building for herself. Feeling confident in the decisions she knew she had to make regarding Edgar, an unexpected weight lifted from her shoulders. "Stick to your guns," she said out loud "it's going to be hard, just be gentle. Be easy. Detract, distract, reroute, be subtle".

Funny how the man she now told herself she couldn't have became her ever-constant thought. Why is it what you can't have, you want the most?

* * *

"That's a wrap," Keith shouted, clapping as he did a complete circle thanking his crew, production team and finally the captains and crew from the respective fishing vessels. "Another season, another year, another job well done fellas," Keith smiled, relieved to finally get in his last shot.

It was four-thirty.

Eager to get in his car and redline it back to the hills of his cabin home, Edgar was pulled back by Sig. In the dozen or so hours they managed to be inside of Daniel's Broiler, Sig went in and out of a drunken state. He had felt it towards the end as a headache began lurking in the midst; hung over or not, he had some words to exchange with his brother. Despite liking the sights and sounds of Emh, he had to bring his brother down a few notches; Edgar was still married, and far too involved to be this elated over someone new.

Scampering about, having sworn to allow for regular business to resume in the evening, everyone that had to do with set up, was now tearing down lights, rolling up extension cords and removing props. It was an organized chaos mixed with a little mayhem as the echoes of Johnathan's Harley seemed all too close. Turning around, everyone began commenting or laughing as they saw his customized Harley working its way down the dock. "Would you take a look at that fool?" Keith laughed, "Someone should film that for our rolling credits."

Edgar briefly thought to himself if that wasn't an intentional stunt to get him on the rolling credits. He always managed to do something outlandish or extreme to get a sort of last word in. Burning out, Johnathan let the clutch go and took off, making way as he left with people scattering about as his loud, and baffle-less pipes roared into the distance.

As Edgar watched and got lost in his thoughts, Sig grabbed a hold of Edgar's arm and walked him down the dock towards where he had parked. Arriving, he reached the front drivers door, pulled out his keys and handed them to Edgar "get in". Apparently Edgar was to drive Sig.

"She, she seems like a good gal, Edgar" Sig responded, coming to life after a few brief moments of silence. "But you are too into her. You don't even know where your wife is or if you still have a wife." Bringing his index finger from out of the formed fist he had, he pointed directly to Edgar's face "and you don't want to mess with things. No bad juju!"

Driving to Sig's place in Fall City, he would surrender his brother to the arms of his wife, as he poured out of the car. At one time the drinking wouldn't have gotten to Sig as it had today, but he hadn't been drinking in quite awhile and his on again off again drinks throughout the day played a number on his head and stomach. Keep the car for the day until Edgar could be driven back to reclaim his, he was eager to drive over to Emh's and talk.

Driving to his cabin, 40 minutes of driving later, he was disheartened to see her place dark. Driving up into her driveway anyhow, he got out and went to knock on her door. Her place was in fact desolate. Returning to his cabin, he realized with great frustration he had left his cell phone back in his car, all the way back in Seattle. Unsure of what he should do, hoping the desperate and nagging itch to reclaim it would subside, he pulled back from his obsession and tried with might to calm and allow the evening to process naturally.

It worked.

For about 2 hours.

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon in the western sky as he reached the parking lot where his car still sat. Reaching in and grabbing his phone, he hopped back into Sig's running car and pulled away, eager to read his missed messages and hear the voicemails. To his utmost shock, he saw he hadn't missed a single thing.

This left a sour taste in his mouth and caused a few pin prickles to sit unsteadily in his stomach. Not thinking twice, he sent out a text to Emh asking if she was able to meet up and talk. Laughing to himself as he waited around for her text, feeling like a fumbling idiot kid, after 20-minutes of no response he drove away from Daniel's.

Half way to his destination, the same place he had left a little over an hour ago, Edgar heard the sound of a received text message. Too eager to wait until he returned home, Edgar pulled into the first available parking lot and reached down to read. His heart did a flip flop when he saw it was from Emh's number.

"I think I'm lost somewhere around Mt. Rainier. Kind of getting freaked, know your way around this park?"

Edgar looked to the sky to see it was beginning to get dark. She hadn't much light left to guide him in if need, so he texted back "do U remember how U got in there?"

"If I did, you think I'd be lost?"

Edgar laughed at his obviously stupid question and text her "call me? U can guide me 2 how U first entered & I can look 4 U.R U in the car or walking?"

"Can't call, in analog, touchy service, try calling me?"

Upon receiving that message, Edgar called over to Emh's cell phone, but as she said, when she answered, her voice was so choppy it brought him right back to the times he had to use a satellite phone. Hanging up, he text her back "I'm on my way. Stay where U R. Txt me how U remember going in?"

With that, Edgar began to text and drive, something no one should really do but many are guilty of. However, in this case Edgar _really_ shouldn't be texting, he's still so novice and terrible at texting, it takes far more concentration than he should have been giving up from driving. Lucky for Emh Edgar was less than ten minutes from the park's entrance. The point of the western entrance was halfway between his home in Fall City and the cabin off in Monroe.

"West entrance, followed a windy road, passed a ranger station" she texted.

"Turned L, took some dirt roads." She sent next.

"Drove for like 20 minutes on dirt. Not sure where I'm right now"

The last message he received stated "but I'm off to the side of the road on a pull out…Nothing but lots of trees and darkness around me."

As Edgar reached the entrance of the park, gates closing in less than an hour, he sent her a response. "I'm here. Just came in2 park via W entrance. Don't move. Coming 2 find U. Stay put"

Edgar noted the lack of a ranger at the ranger station. After 8pm, it was self-registration, therefore he just assumed it was a mechanical arm that would drop and only open for people leaving, but not approaching. Following the makeshift direction Emh thought she had followed, Edgar started out on the slow approach doing 15mph as he wound around the narrow and windy roads of Mt. Rainier National Park.

Darkness prior to now was never as black as when you're drifting at sea in the middle of the night, but this faired an impressive second place. Everything was pitch black, hardly a place for a young female and her dog to be lost in. Trying his best to keep a cool head, Edgar began navigating the roads, heading in the direction he thought she most likely was.

A few critters dodged out in front of Edgar as he drove, but nothing worth fretting over just yet. His phone vibrated to life again, as the sing song tone signified another text came through. "Are U around here? I don't see any lights and I'm getting skeeved out."

Stopping in his tracks, he replied back "here, just looking 4 U. Turn on ur hazards and brights. Maybe that could help me find U."

"They're on now."

Edgar continued winding through the dark woods for another hour before he started to catch sight of what he thought could be Emh's car. Slowly approaching the area, there was no turn off he could see to navigate closer to the source of the light. Texting, he asked "honk UR horn, I think I might C U. Do it 4 awhile…"

Waiting a few moments to pass, Edgar rolled the windows down and kept rolling slowly towards the source he thought could be her. However, he began hearing the honking of a horn, but it was in the opposite direction of the light. Texting back "keep honking, I hear U but can't see U yet"

Rolling all his windows down, despite being a bit cool, he reached a narrow dark path just big enough to fit a vehicle. Turning and continuing his moving at a slow and steady 15mph, the horn sounds began getting louder. Several minutes later, beyond a bend in the road, Edgar saw her flashing hazards in the distance. She was in fact very deep in the woods, but he found her.

She must have seen him as he approached, because her honking of the horn stopped and she shut the hazards off. Pulling up behind her, Edgar parked and intended on getting out and seeing if she wanted him to follow her or if he should lead their way out. As his feet hit the gravel, Emh's door flew opened and she ran to him. She embraced him as he felt her heart thumping wildly against his chest.

"Minnesota," he said, looking to her in the illumination of his headlights "I thought you were an outdoors woman. Why so afraid?"

Hugging him she just sighed heavily. "Relief. New park, dumb move, I was scared, I don't know this place."

"I'm here," Edgar spoke, feeling like a tough guy that saved the day "no need to worry now."

Leaning her forehead into his chest, she truly was trembling. "I've been lost in here since it started to get dark…"

Edgar fumbled with that same watch to see it was half past 10. "So a couple hours?"

"Since 5? I didn't realize it was such dense woods back in here. I hadn't seen anyone to ask how to get out and the roads kept getting narrower and narrower. Thank you for finding me…"

In that moment, 1 and 1 made three and the sky was pink. She had a spell on him and he was transfixed by her presence, Viv who! His brother had made valid points hours before, but it was up to him to make this as messy or as casual as he wanted.

"Anytime, Emh," Edgar laughed, bringing his hand up to her back and gently stroking a few patterns on it. "Did you want to lead the way out or should we back up and you follow?"

Looking straight into his eyes "I have no clue. You make the decision, I'll do what you say."

This perplexed Edgar; women usually barked orders, not offered to surrender a decision and freely follow his advice. "Let us back out, there is a turn out a few hundred feet back and we can navigate our way from there."

With a head nod, Emh retreated to her car where Raven still slept peacefully. She had fallen in a deep sleep, leg kicking and twitching included, several hours back when Emh had first shut the car off. Emh backed out as instructed by Edgar, a few minutes worth of being in reverse lead them both to a tight but suitable turn out. Edgar made little work in a SUV twice the size of her Santa Fe, but Emh struggled. A few minutes worth of efforts finally got it turned around and she continued to follow him.

Navigating the dark woods proved to be adventuresome for Edgar. He enjoyed it as he wrapped around curves and turns, despite not knowing where he was, he could have fooled anyone. Another hour later, the same ranger station came into view, but an unexpected road block came in sight. The mechanical arm Edgar thought would be in place after closing hours, turned into legitimate road blocks that weren't on a timer or sensor. It appeared that those who were left in, stayed in and those who were out had to wait until 7am to come in. The only exit that allowed campers and visitors who were in after hours, out, was the east entrance nearly 60 miles the opposite direction.

This provided an interesting situation.

Edgar and Emh were locked in.


	13. Chapter 12

**Author's Note:** This chapter quickly turned into a monster at over 14'000 words. It became way too long and too much was jumbled together. Therefore I was able to break it up into more than one chapter. I've been going back and forth with what I wanted to say in this chapter, adding and taking out a lot, but I think this should do. It's not as long as I would have liked it to be, but where this ends, another 4-5'000 words follows for the pieces to stay in sequence. So alas, a short chapter, but another to follow soon! Hopefully I'm keeping your interest with this story. Let me know how I'm doing? With that, _in no way, shape or form is this a true story. All crew from the Deadliest Catch (eg: Northwestern, Cornelia Marie, Time Bandit, etc) are the rightful owners of trademark and registered publishing for their specific namesakes. I make no claims of ownership; I am just a writer, doing what I love._

* * *

"…beneath the stains of time, feelings disappear. You are someone else, I am still right here."

Landing in SeaTac airport, for the first time, Viv felt eager, excited and rejuvenated. Something about this return felt right, like the cloudy skies had parted and for once she could see clearly. Upon her many revelations and self-actualizations, she grew excited and hopeful of rekindling her romance and relationship with her husband and family. While her children were still young, she hoped to make amends and act as a mother should to the children she forced into this world.

Driving back to Fall City, she came in under the darkness of night. Her home was cool; a chill raised goose bumps as it felt oddly distant to be inside the walls of this home. Emptiness haunted the oversized estate; despite all this, she would try and gain back her children in the morning.

Dropping her bags just inside the door, she walked through her and her husband's home as if for the first time. Her finger tips fell to the wall, dragging gently as she walked by. Stopping to admire the family photos that donned the walls, she was flooded with emotions, the heaviest being sorrow and regret. Hidden behind her eyes in so many of these pictures was a feigned interest, forced smiles, she knew what she was thinking as the flash of the bulb went off. It was so apparent in every single photo that it was a forced look, a fake family – but she was here to try and turn those moments of fiction into true real life happiness.

Coming from Alaska, she was so sure of herself. The thoughts passing through her mind became enveloped in eagerness to hurry home, share her actualizations and seek forgiveness from the man she was so terrible to. However being in the here and now, there was a daunting reality to the moment. All of the might she had forced herself to accept abandoned her with every passing moment. She was losing her nerve. There was something about all of this, the reality of the family, the life, the images she had fell in love with all over again while in Alaska; it finally all fell together to spell out a truth she tried so hard to change: she didn't want this, any of this.

Facts were- being in Alaska she fell in love with the idea, not the reality. Part of her, the free spirit from her youth, was becoming harder and harder to ignore with every passing year. She knew she loved Edgar. Throughout their courtship and the years leading up to their recent separation, it was dotted with moments where she loved Edgar endlessly. However, adding those moments up throughout the 30 years, it made little more than a dent in the grand scale of things. Viv had at one time loved him, still had love for him somewhere, but was no longer even remotely in love with him. When it came to Edgar Jr. and Elsa, her feelings were indifferent.

There was still a child-like mentality when it came to Viv; if she felt you weren't fully in love with, or clinging to her every motion, she became disinterested. She was severely jealous of her children's adoration to Edgar and their wanting to crawl all over him when they saw their father after time away at sea. She was unforgiving of the fact that they were children and didn't know better, she could not differentiate or separate the reality that they were still babies and were elated to see their father. It was nothing personal, but considering she was spiteful of their existence from the beginning, it was easy to make up reasons to dislike her children and place the blame on them. It was cold of her, it was callous, but it was the truth.

The elation of the moment stepping off the plane had already long been forgotten after she made her way through the entirety of the house. Having traveled and lived in small cozy accommodations, the grandeur of the home lost its appeal. All these things she had begged for and received, were more a tangible proof that she could get her way, more over things she really wanted or needed to have. The collection of items and things donning the house in every corner that Edgar hemorrhaged money to purchase, were merely statements and reminders she held the reigns. There were no attachments to anything in the home, it simply was a catalogue of times where she got what she wanted, and what she wanted was just to see that she could get.

There were no real possessions of Viv's that she could not dare to part from. Her own flesh and blood were as disposable as the $3,000 sculpture of something she put up such a fight to have, but in truth didn't know what it was of. Or the 8' Steinway grand piano she didn't know how to play, to the wine cellar filled with vintage expensive bottles – she fought for every last thing, but didn't want or need any of it. So it came as no surprise when she felt she could comfortably walk away from it all, and not demand a single thing. It was junk; just fleeting moments in time where she felt she needed to confirm her position or prove a point. For such a materialistic person, she could leave it all behind with relative ease.

Returning to her California king, her Egyptian cotton sheets wrapped around her and sleep pulled her into its lair in only a short spurt of time. Her sleep was dreamless, not out of the ordinary, but when she woke the following am to a sense of dread, she knew for certain, all questions answered, that this was a life she would need to leave.

Plans were to still have the children over, to see if something didn't possibly change in the time she was gone, but as she called up Jules, Viv was surprised to hear just how shocked Jules was that she placed a call in to her. "Viv, hi" Jules said, feeling her legs grow weak from under her. Jules had gotten used to the role, the calm tranquility with Viv out of the picture, that the cruel reality that set back in the moment Viv called, knocked the wind from her sails.

"I was wondering if I could see the kids today."

Jules could hardly believe her ears. If Sig hadn't been at the filming for 'After the Catch' she would have forced him to listen in on another phone.

"Yeah, your parents were actually heading down to visit with them. Want us just to all come back to your home?"

A few awkward moments of silence passed before Viv agreed in a less than enthused tone. "Yeah, come on over. I'm here"

Jules didn't want to ask questions, such as when she got in, or why she was back, or if she had called Edgar. No, instead Jules tried her best to calm her trembling fears and anxieties that these poor kids were about to endure a harsh dose of reality seeing their mother again. Jules became very maternal over the time that Viv was gone. It was the longest she had had possession of Edgar's children, they grew closer and more bonded in that time, part of Jules did not want to bring them back over, but her hands were tied, they weren't her babies.

45 minutes later, after Viv's parents made it to Jules, the five of them took this beautiful morning to walk over to Edgar's home to meet up with the kids mother. To no one's surprise, even Viv's the children were casual with her. Neither ran to her and wrapped their arms around her neck or legs like they did to Edgar when he returned from sea, or even for that matter, showed up in a room after a few hours away. Jules often wondered if they couldn't feel their mother's distant ways with them and if they often reacted off of it. Viv's children did not behave like normal toddlers around their mothers, it was like they were tiny adults, casual and collected, rather than rambunctious and overjoyed at mommy being home. It would be a lie if any one of them said they didn't notice the lack of excitement from the children.

In another interesting turn of events, Elsa seemed to become protective of Jr. as they walked closer to Viv. The gap between the two closed dramatically, and at one point, Elsa grabbed for his little hand as their mother approached. Jules's heart wrenched with agony watching her 3-year-old niece grab hold of her little brother's hand as they approached their mother. This wasn't typical, this was far from it. Jules perched herself close, watching Viv and her niece and nephew like a hawk. Hell hath no fury like an aunt on guard.

The grandparents, Viv's folks, even made mention of it out of Viv's earshot to Jules. They didn't understand their daughter and her distance to her children. They thought it reflected back to their parenting of Viv, but they were good parents; they were just as befuddled as the next person as to why Viv was the way she was with her two little ones. One thing that was for sure, the grandparents doted on them every possible moment they had, those two were the light of their life, whether or not their mother concurred.

The morning slowly progressed as the children played together out in the front lawn. The adults took watch from the drive way and on occasion Viv's father would throw a ball back and forth with Elsa until she grew tired. Traffic that day seemed to be more noticeable than normal, but Jules wrote it off as Mt. Rainier rangers doing some work. Whenever traffic picked up, that was often the case. Several unmarked paths were adjacent to the property at the end of the block that was quite often used as a service road. So to see various SUV's passing by on that day was nothing out of the norm.

Jules noticed that Viv had retreated to the back yard, unsure of what she was doing, she asked for Viv's parents to keep watch as Jules headed to where she had last seen Viv. Way in the back, several hundred feet down their property line, Jules spotted Viv on a swing chair tucked in between two tall oak trees. Approaching cautiously, she saw Viv's face cherry red and a hand quickly reach up to wipe away tears.

Jules was wonderstruck. She hadn't any clue Viv was capable of emotions like this; she had always seemed so stone cold. Appearing before her, she pointed to the vacant spot next to her and asked "you mind?" to which Viv responded with a shaking of her head.

Sitting down, a slight creek coming from the wood causing for Jules to look above at the swing bar, she turned to Viv. "What's wrong?"

Viv sat in silence a bit longer than anticipated, before she let the flood gates open and revealed her heart entirely. She held nothing back. "I don't want any of this Jules. I don't want the kids, the house, Edgar, this life... I wish I could take back the last 30 years."

Viv was having a pity party; she was crying tears for herself.

And just like that, Jules felt a wave of every bit of emotion there was possible, hit her at once. Anger started to seethe in her, but before she reacted harshly, she tried her best to calm the nerves she had, repressing the instinct to slug her, and opt for a heated conversation.

"What do you mean?" Was all Jules could muster out that wasn't an insult or a slam.

"I left Edgar to do some searching. To see why it was after all these years I felt like I resented him more and more. I've blamed him for everything and didn't shy from it. I've threatened divorce, yelled at him, hit him, screamed until I lost my voice, blaming him for how messed up my life is, told him I've hated him. I was sick of the yelling, sick of feeling like this, so I left him."

"I know you did" Jules responded, which was really the only thing she was able to formulate.

"I left, I took the first flight out which happened to be to Anchorage," she said, hearing Jules throaty scoff catching her off guard. Looking to her with a look of disgust, she continued without missing a beat "and I found myself there. I found out that his job isn't this little vacation, away on some luxury boat where he got to just fish with the boys and hang back. All my assumptions that his job was this cake walk were thrown right back in my face by some captain of a crab boat. He looked to me like I was nuts, but showed me how the boats work. I grew angry at Edgar for not correcting me, and grew even more upset when I began to feel bad for my misunderstandings."

"You what?" Jules snapped, hardly believing what she was hearing.

Viv continued with no regard to Jules speaking. "I went to Unalaska, to Latitudes, heard some stories right from a bartender who knew all the guys. I began breaking down when I was there, feeling terrible for all the wrongs I've done to Edgar and for how horribly wrong I've been. I suddenly felt closer to him, and missed him more than I have in all our years of being married. I started to get it."

Looking to her with such saddened eyes, despite Jules not believing a single ounce of sincerity, Viv continued. "I was there for quite some time, I forget the duration, but it was long enough to see enough to know I needed to try and make amends. To seek forgiveness and to try and repair things; but I get back here, I see these things, these items I fought for, just to fight for. This home that despite claiming to be my dream home, was really just a struggle of wills to see if I could get Edgar to buy it for me… everything surrounding me, including my kids, is a reminder of things I fought for, whether for right or wrong reasons, that I don't want."

"What do you mean your kids?"

"You remember that time you confided in me about how you couldn't have kids?"

Jules sat still. All was silent. Her pulse quickening with every second as a wave of dizziness hit her upon hearing the stark revelation from Viv. "I had them because you couldn't. I wanted something you couldn't have. Think about the time gap, the difference from when you said you couldn't have children, to when she came along. I got pregnant almost a month after our conversation. I stopped my birth control, I cried to Edgar about wanting children, so we tried, and so there's Elsa."

Blind rage washed over Jules, she couldn't believe what she heard and was continuing to hear from Viv who showed no remorse for her actions or feelings. "I never wanted her. I never wanted Junior. I don't like them, I've never felt bonded, never wanted to be a mother, and I still don't. I've never told Edgar that, but it's the truth. I lose my temper with them because in their eyes and in their face, I see the blend of my own and of Edgar's whom I fell out of love with long ago. They're living, breathing reminders that my life isn't what I want. I've lost control on them before, and although I'm ashamed to admit that I've struck my children, I feel I have no remorse. I have no connection to them, Jules. I simply don't care about them."

That was all Jules could stand to hear. Her heart broke for those children, for Edgar, for their future and for her brother-in-laws future. Tears staining her cheeks, she got up and left Viv sitting there. Viv did nothing to stop Jules from leaving, made no threats or requests to keep the information she just shared, private. Almost as if with Jules telling someone, it meant she didn't have to; she wasn't about to deny any of it either. She was ready to move on.

Coming from around the corner of the home, seeing a slow SUV pass by, Jules looked to the ground as she headed in closer toward her babies. They were more hers now, than Viv's. Unable to look at their tiny, precious faces, Jules instead walked over to Elsa and Junior's grandparents and told them very quietly, but very sternly "you need to go speak to your daughter. She has some things she needs to tell you. I'm taking the kids back to my place; you're welcomed over there after you're done speaking to her."

Gathering the kids and getting them excited for a yummy lunch that they'd do ala picnic style, the three headed back to her and Sig's place only a 5 minute walk down the road. Carrying Junior on her shoulders and holding Elsa's hand, her heart soared when she was around these two children, but now, it was confused. It was blending with a mixture of elation that she had them in her life, and the soaring her heart always did when she was with them, to now bleeding with sorrow and sadness knowing their very existence was unwanted by their own mother.

"Auntie Jules, can we go to the park today?" she heard Elsa ask, as she looked about.

"Sure honey, anything for you" to which both children giggled.

The children's innocence is pure and uninhibited; they have a very loving family that can envelope them and dull the pains that could follow from the dissolution of their parents marriage. Reality was if Jules knew anything, she knew for fact their parents would never be together after this; at least not if she could help it.

Finding herself in a sudden inner war, Jules lost herself in deep thought. Part of her was yearning for her husband to return so he could help lighten the load that was just dumped on her shoulders. The other part of her began to fight within, bulking up her armor and artillery, fully ready to take on the inevitable fight against Viv. While one side wanted to cry for what was, the other screamed out "bring it" for what was to come.

Returning to her place of solace and comfort, a home that knew of no screaming or yelling, hitting or even real cursing, the kids scampered about as their lunch was made. Unable to revisit some of the things Viv had just stated, a wince appeared to take rest on Jules's face as she tried desperately to put on a believable façade for the two young ones.

The afternoon went on without so much as a hiccup for ordinary routine. Smiles and giggles were all Jules could hear and see for the remainder of the kid's day. The kids nap offered time for Jules to commiserate and find true insight and some revelations after Viv's parents came back.

* * *

Heading over to Jules's place, a few blocks from where Viv and Edgar reside, Gwendolyn and Arthur found their way to the home their two grand children would be in. To say they were shocked of what their daughter confided in them, pales in comparison to the reality of their feelings and all the emotions swirling between them. Arthur was brought to tears, and Gwendolyn fought the reality feeling a heaviness overcome her while questioning if her parenting resulted in their daughters disinterest in her own flesh and blood. Nothing made sense, but their daughters own candid candor gave Gwen chills. Viv was profiling herself as a sociopath; her lack of decency, moral responsibility and lack of concern to anyone but herself baffled her parents. The most troubling of it all was determining whether Viv was a good actor and fooled them all, or if all this while Edgar was living in a personal hell no one knew.

* * *

The children were both down for the count, a few good hours (after all that running and playing outside) was to be expected from their naps. Three individuals, linked together by the two beating hearts upstairs, sat amongst each other with blank stares and racing thoughts. "I cannot shake the feeling of responsibility for this, somehow I feel it's my fault" Gwen trembled, reaching for the tissue she kept stuffed up her arm sleeve and gently blowing her nose. Between sniffles, "I just cannot wrap my head around this. Has she fooled us all this while?"

Jules looked up to Gwen's sad, reddened eyes and swallowed hard. "I think Edgar has been enduring some pretty rough things, Gwen" she said, firm in her statement but fumbling in every other way. "We've all had our suspicions, but with him gone so often, we never really had anything but our wondering thoughts."

Arthur had not said much since sitting down. He kept quiet. Though present, he seemed a million miles away. Every now and again as if to reassure the two women he was still very much alert and listening, he would clear his throat or fuss with his hands, folding and unfolding them. Jules always figured him to be a man of few words.

This situation presented itself as an awkward scenario; Jules had been very welcoming of Arthur and Gwendolyn from day one, it was her niece and nephew's grandparents after all. However, the on-going situation was a bit alarming, considering Jules was of no blood relation to Viv, and yet here she was in an emotional conversation with Viv's parents, about how troubled and worrisome she had become. "I by no means want to make this situation seem any worse, but I would be lying if I said she hadn't been a cause for alarm for quite some time."

Both parents looked to Jules as she took a second to look one than the other square in the eye. "She has been exhibiting some very peculiar attributes and tendencies for years. Things Edgar would tell his brother, my husband, occasionally would trickle down to me and I can honestly say I don't know why they're still married. However, I think the three of us are privy to things now that Edgar is not. You two do realize there's no way there could ever be reconciliation between the two of them after this, right?"

"I wouldn't want there to be, she doesn't deserve these children, that hard working man, or the lovely family that surroundings these children," Arthur piped up, his answer while not out of line did shock Jules. Viv was his daughter, but Arthur was a man to speak truths no matter the consequences or those it involved.

"You know honey, I would have to agree," Gwendolyn said, reaching for her husband's hands that were folded on the table top. Turning to Jules, her eyes were tired and showed hints at frailty; "If I were 20-years younger, I'd say to have those children stay with us, but you're doing a mighty fine job my dear. I rest well knowing our two sweet grandchildren are in your care. As a mother, you feel a special kind of bond and connection to your own child, it is something I have been haunted by in not seeing my own daughter react the way she should to her own son and daughter. You possess more of the tight bond of a biological mother than she ever has. You adore them, and one would be a damn fool to doubt your care for them. You're more their mother than she is. Thank you for being here for our grandchildren," Gwen said, abruptly standing and heading to Jules. The two women embraced, Jules shedding tears, her heart soaring at the words she just heard. Gwen's words verified and validated so many questions Jules had.

"Thank you," Jules sniffled.

"No, thank you".

xXxXx

In the early afternoon, the children played nicely together, totally unaware of the turbulent affairs that were starting to rattle their family; after an early dinner, Gwendolyn and Arthur helped with the nightly routine in getting the children to bed. Little effort was made that night to get them down, the fresh air from being out all day knocked the kids out early, but Jules knew to expect a very early morning. 'Hopefully Sig won't mind,' she laughed to herself. As the evening progressed, Viv's parents parted from Sig and Jules's home. They lived on the west side of Puget Sound and didn't like driving in the dark. A few lingering hugs later, the two grandparents drove away, passing slowly by the home of their daughter and her husband. An unexpected tear shed from Gwendolyn's eye as she passed, only to turn her head and stare straight out the front window, noting Arthur's lack of acknowledgment as they passed their daughters home. 20 minutes out, they passed Sig and Edgar who were heading home. Shutting her eyes, she sent a silent prayer up that whatever needed to happen - happens quickly.


	14. Chapter 13

**Author's Note:** These updates are getting so messed up. I'm not sure if I'm ahead now or behind. So you're getting another update Friday and either this is overdue or a bonus! I haven't a lot to say this time around, so it's short and sweet. This is a lengthy one, I've been asked to keep them longer than shorter, so lets see how this works. With that, _in no way, shape or form is this a true story. All crew from the Deadliest Catch (eg: Northwestern, Cornelia Marie, Time Bandit, etc) are the rightful owners of trademark and registered publishing for their specific namesakes. I make no claims of ownership; I am just a writer, doing what I love._

* * *

A silent home was occasionally a welcomed delight; however as the clicking shut of the main door echoed throughout his home, Sig felt a heavy presence. Always sensitive to the moods and vibes around him, the slightest sound of a sniffle from Jules alerted him. Rounding the corner of his foyer, he saw his wife leaning against the kitchen counter, peering out the window with an unusual sight clutched into her hand. A small tumbler of an unidentified liquid with a few cubes clanked around as she stood very still. It appeared she hadn't touched whatever it was in the glass, she was as stiff and still as a robot.

Coming behind her, trying best not to startle, he soon saw her eyes were welled with tears, though they were unshed. Not allowing a word to escape his lips, he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, feeling her tense under his touch, as the ice cubes clanked in the glass from her surprise. Turning around, the glass crashing into the sink; Jules immediately spun and embraced her husband.

No words had yet been said.

Jules's clutch felt especially tight to Sig. He noticed her clawing at his back, trying to bring him closer as her arms tightened even more. Encircling his wife, wrapping his strong arms tightly around her, Jules's flood gates came undone. Wave after wave of sobs hit; despite Sig still being in the blue as to what could cause such an outpouring of emotion, it had to be bad; his wife never drank and rarely did she cry like this.

While still locked in an embrace, Sig walked their two bodies towards the closest room that could offer them comfort. Propping himself up on the lip of a long dresser, Jules's body weight grew heavier as her body felt limp.

"Sweetheart," he said trying best not to coo but spoke in a hush, "what happened? What's the matter?"

Word for word through the sniffles and cries, Jules told Sig verbatim what Viv had revealed. In moments of concern and fury, Jules could feel Sig's body tense; his breathing became labored when the topic of Elsa and Jr. came forth. Those two children where the only blood children in the Hansen clan, Sig did not have children of his own, Norman the forever bachelor did not have children, so those two, Elsa and Jr. were it for the Hansen family name. Family was the only thing that came before fishing. Sig hearing that Viv did not want the children wasn't surprising to him; he noted often how she didn't fit the role of mother very well. The fact of their very existence being because of spite for what he and his wife could not have was preposterous, but not unfounded when it concerned Viv. However, what made his blood boil and his Norwegian temper flare was the confession of striking the children.

Like one of those Christmas decorations that fade from color to color, Jules could feel her husband's warm skin grow hot, as his body turned to smoldering stone. Sig every so often would become so agitated he could compromise the output from his body; when especially furious he would radiate heat, a sense of a thick, warm fog would surround his body, a reaction Jules could vouch for at this very moment. He didn't have to respond for her to know his anger. Jules never once feared her husband; however she grew anxious to know what he was going to do with this new information and just who he was going to go after in a heated, Norwegian rage that no man would dare wish upon his worst enemy.

A Norwegian rage was something to be see; a Sig rage was one for the history books.

* * *

Reaching Emh's vehicle, surprised to see laughter coming from her, Edgar realized the game totally changed when it came to Emh. Everything he thought- every supposed assumption or expected reaction was exactly opposite. The woman was keeping him on his toes in a way he never imagined. She started out as a neighbor, moved quickly to a friend, now she was becoming the every thought he had. It helped make the pained thoughts of his wife and his current situation less tolling, more tolerable; he was growing dependent on Emh and he knew it. He did nothing to stop it, however.

"We're stuck, aren't we?" she managed to state through her endless giggles, a sound becoming very endearing to Edgar.

His husky smokers laugh bubbled up, exposing a genuine smile; his head nodded, confirming Emh's suspicions.

"Ooooh," she cooed, "we get a crack at being outdoorsy together!"

'…always one to look on the brighter side of things,' he thought to himself before piping up and responding "Looks like!"

"Think we can manage a fire somewhere? There's gotta be a campsite around here, no?"

Edgar took careful note of her willingness and more importantly her ability to roll with the proverbial punches. This created an excitement in Edgar. When life went awry, rather than have to talk sense into an abruptly irate wife who couldn't handle a hiccup, he was in the company of someone who went with it. Emh reacted the same way he did, which allowed for Edgar to put to good use his wilderness experience in this particular scenario. His zest for the unknown and ability to keep a calm head under pressure made himself and Emh a good pairing. He had always secretly wanted to live out a scenario like this. Yet in all the years with Viv, he had kept that wish a secret. He had always wondered though if he would get to live it out, but the concept of camping to Viv was preposterous enough, let alone ever trying to 'rough it'. Now that he was able to live out a boyish wish, he grew more anxious by the minute. "Yeah," Edgar answered a minute or two later, having fooled her into thinking he was in deep thought, when actually he was both reminiscing and planning, "I think that," he paused, pointing to the board nearest the entrance and the ranger station "might tell us where".

Looking to head for the board, "I'll be right back," he smiled to her, turning as he were about to leave.

"No, hold up, we'll come with" she urged him, turning off her car and making motions to get out. Edgar moved away from the door he was leaning against, to let her out. With a bit of a bounce in her step, Emh opened the back door and let Raven out. Grabbing hold of Raven's leash, the three of them headed to the park sign, several hundred yards down, centered in an island of grass by the ranger's station.

Reaching the sign, they were 14 miles from a campground called 'Cougar Rock'. Reaching to point toward it at the same time, they laughed "shall we head in?" Edgar asked.

"If you're game, I'm game" she smiled, the moon light catching Edgar's eyes just right, highlighting the captivating blue. Somewhere in her, a tiny inner squee let itself be known. Again.

Bringing his hand up to her back, he gently patted it as they walked back to the cars. As an inner war of wills raged in Emh's mind, her body told her mind 'to hell with you' as she reached for Edgar's arm, wrapping hers around his. Half was because she was navigating dense woods in the pitch dark, the other more honest part was because she wanted to. Cursing herself as she clutched to his arm, damning her mind for not sticking to her 'friends only, wife first' philosophy, they walked together as a curious but cautious Raven lead the way.

Meanwhile, Edgar praised the night sky for the blackness. It was hiding his grin; a grin that no matter the attempt, nothing could stifle. At the very moment, the arm of a woman who made him feel completed wound with his, creating for him a physical connection between the two that he hoped would never break.

* * *

Sig and Jules hadn't parted from the moment he had returned, despite the heat storm that was raging around them both now. Jules was having a hard time accepting the news and facts of what Viv had confessed to; she loved her godchildren, she loved her brother-in-law, but what was the hardest reality she faced were feelings of guilt for the lives of Elsa and Jr.

Who knew that a dreary day, when Jules felt most vulnerable that the confessions, her desires and innermost wishes would become verbalized to Viv? This was a time when she had missed Sig beyond measure; the crew were on a 9-week fishing venture, and the days became harder and harder to manage without him. Jules called on Viv to break the monotony of the grueling, endless time it seemed that she were away from her husband; Viv should be feeling the same way too she thought. Now here, in present time, thinking back to that conversation and still she couldn't comprehend the fact that while she shared her most unfound and yearning desires, Viv sat calculating and scheming. "Those two precious, perfect children came to be because Viv is a bitch," Jules finally cried out.

Being careful with what he said, Sig tried his best to funnel and filter his anger. As the minutes ticked by, his hostility never waned, it was concerning, especially since he wanted to ensure that he didn't go off on his innocent wife who was just as distraught by the news. "We have to look at it from Edgar's side," Sig managed, "he wanted these children. He loved them more than anything or anyone I've ever seen. Viv be damned, those children were very much wanted and are here because of their dad."

Sig's acknowledgment of Edgar's role in this soothed Jules; Edgar hadn't come up in her mind, it was all circulating around how Viv was so cruel and never once crossed her mind of Edgar's role in this. Sig was right. Viv may have carried the children and birthed them for unimaginable reasons beyond true comprehension, but Edgar was a constant factor. He was around her as much as he was physically able, tending to Viv's every demand, keeping her comfortable so the baby would always get what it needed. She didn't have to lift a finger, and when Edgar was away? He covered all bases; he had a nanny come to take care of every domestic need, landscapers to maintain and tend to the gardens. All Viv had to do was stay health and grow their baby. No leaf was left unturned, no thought or need overlooked. Viv was his wife and she was carrying their child, it was all simple really.

Jules fondly recalled Edgar's sayings for 'back then' bringing it to Sig's attention. "Remember how he would always say she was extra precious cargo?" Jules laughed; laughter because Viv did not like being referred to as 'cargo' "made her feel huge," Jules continued, feeling the laughter a nice change of pace from her sullen and somber mood.

"He never could do anything right, could he?" Sig said, seemingly more bothered now than he had been. Jules looked to her husband, her heart pattering for him. Those Hansen men could never hide their emotions, no matter the words contesting their feelings; their faces would always show it. Their expressions could never lie. And here, in the now, Sig's face looked pained. If it wasn't against every fiber in him, he looked close to shedding a tear. He did not take well to emotional roller coasters but typically he could manage; this however was something even beyond his realm of capabilities. It involved his brother, his nephew and his niece. Beyond that, Sig was using his stardom and celebrity to speak out against domestic violence; it was a cause close to his heart. He had no immediate family to push his interests in the organizations that helped battered women and children; it was just something he was naturally passionate about. Jules surmised this was why a revelation such as this rattled his foundation as badly as it did. It was a textbook definition of blindsiding.

As they made their way from one end of the house to the other, Jules and Sig ended up on an oversized couch that easily fit the two spooning bodies together. In the quiet night, the rhythm of her husband's heart and his exponentially warmer body lulled Jules to sleep. Sig on the other hand, stayed awake. The darkness to the night was reverently thanked by him as the rare tear streaked down his face. The gas fireplace in the distance cast dancing shadows along the walls, those same shadows had Sig's gazed fixated upon them as they blurred from his tearful eyes.

His heart was heavy; he had to suppress his instinct and urges to flip out, surprising himself that he was able to reel it in before losing his mind. His temper had gotten the best of him in his earlier years; he was part of many bar room brawls from a wronged look, never mind a real genuine reason like this. Who was he to go off on, though? A woman? Edgar, whom did nothing wrong? God? He hadn't anyone to lash out his anger and aggression at, no one to direct it to. He simply had to calm down and in the mornings light make clearheaded decisions on what to do. But where Sig was unable to vent and release his anger, he suddenly found it vanquishing, such a spike of adrenaline to come crashing down left him feeling overwhelmed. A surge of unusual emotions pulled at his exhausted mind, and as a result the tears formed; the location was as ideal as it could be for a man like Sig to cry: in the dark, with no witnesses, never making the light of day that it ever happened.

Tomorrow was to be a new day; one where Edgar would have his world come crashing down. Hopefully it would be for the last time. Sig knew his brother had been through enough when it concerned Viv. She put a lot of strain on him, more than enough to last a lifetime. For once, beyond the meddling he had done between Edgar and Emh today, Sig was going to put himself in the mix of Edgar and Viv's affairs. Enough was enough and when those children and the confession of abuse came forth? Sig knew Edgar was going to need both moral support and a voice of reason. Hugging his sleeping wife a little closer to him, Sig stared into the dark, hoping sleep would come and afford him the clarity needed come morning.

* * *

Arriving back to the cars, arm in arm with one another, not a flashlight to go by just the moon high above; Emh liked the feeling of being linked to Edgar. He was vastly different from the kind of man she typically found to be to her liking. A kind of giddiness encompassed her thoughts when around him. "Do you want to lead or should I?" Emh asked, having walked with Edgar right up to her car door.

Having contemplated driving together, it was best thought to keep the cars in the same place, after a seconds thought, "I can, I think I have a good idea of where it is in here if that's alright?"  
With Edgar being behind Emh's car, he would have to navigate the narrow path to pass her by, something that wouldn't be all that tricky. "Sure, lets head on up," Emh said, begrudgingly letting go of his arm.

Waiting until she was locked in with the car on, Edgar retreated to his brother's car and promptly began the navigation up the mountain. Right as he was that Cougar Rock was a camp ground, it was exceptionally remote from what Edgar recalled. There were no campers; the campground hadn't officially opened to visitors for the season. There was a slight possibility that if they spent the night there, including somehow managing a fire that they would be breaking a few laws, but what were they to do? The 60-mile trip out the east exit required they navigate a narrow drive with hairpin turns and slow going speeds. It was not worth the risk and effort. Breaking a law or two, if it meant spending the night with one another seemed much more enticing.

As Emh followed closely behind Edgar, he realized he was checking his mirror quite often. It was almost like every time he saw the reflection of her car in his mirror, it gave him that much needed pinch of reality that this was happening. It was an addictive feeling, one that caused his heart to soar every single time. He realized too with every passing moment the more he was around her, the further away he felt he was from his problems. It was a win, win.

Reaching a place that looked adequate, a clear sky above what appeared to be the campfire ring, Edgar pulled his car in, and Emh followed closely behind. Without a single item equip to camp along with either one of them, they were in for an interesting night. Provided in the campsite were a picnic table and a campfire ring. That was it. Edgar had a lighter, and they were in the woods so he had hopes that some of the wood wouldn't be wet. Before he was out of the car, Emh and Raven met him by his door. Her smile so broad and excited was adorable to him. Raven couldn't get enough of the smells; her tail could be seen by the headlights they kept on, wagging frantically as she searched to the limits of her leash.

"Now we forage for some wood," Emh laughed with Raven clearly pulling her with all her might. Edgar witnessing it, asked for her leash. Emh happily obliged, her shoulder could only take so much of the tugging. Together, they ventured out not far from their vehicles, looking for hanging twigs and things that could potentially burn. Conversation began to build as they were on their scavenger hunt.  
"You know, as a kid back home, the remote campsites would have wood vending machines, true story" Emh laughed, realizing this hunt was likely to turn up nothing.

"You know, I bet you they have those here" Edgar chimed in, certain he saw a sign for something like that a few mile markers back.

"Really? They weren't that frequent in campsites, some had 'em, but not many. I think that's why I remember that, they were neat."

Edgar laughed, chuckling more to himself; she had an incredibly nerdy side that was intriguing and for a lack of better words, cute. As they continued the search around the perimeter of the campsite, Emh stopped. "So seriously, if you think there is a vending machine full of dry wood we can use, let's go look?" she stated, before laughing. Looking to Edgar and then herself realizing between the two of them, Raven had more in the one stick she was carrying than either of them. The sight of Raven got a roar of giggles from him, "let's go head back, it's not too far if I recall correct."

Fifteen minutes later, they arrived to a facilities stop along the trail they took up. Pulling into the lot, a very dark and secluded area, there were vault toilets, a pay phone and a vending machine for ice and one for wood. Eureka, he was right! $10 and another 15 minutes later, they arrived back to the campsite where Emh's car still waited. With a little handy skill from Boy Scout Edgar, a rip roaring fire illuminated the campsite.

It was nearing midnight.

Without a place to sit, Edgar looked around to neighboring campsites and found a log long enough and big enough to support and seat the two of them around their first campfire. It was an interesting relationship these two have had in such a short time, far from conventional but it worked for them. In the mountain range they were in, and the time of year it was, temperatures dropped dramatically. Not exactly dressed for an outdoor sleeping venture, as the fire kept its strength with the logs Edgar piled on, Emh couldn't help her shivering. Seeing her cold, Edgar retreated to the car hoping to find something, _anything_ that he could use to keep her from the cold. He turned up nothing, and came back unfortunately empty handed. As he sat next to her, apologizing for the lack of warm options, Emh looked to him, his face with an amber glow from the fire, and smiled. "It's alright," she said, "gives me an excuse".

Furrowing his brows together before he was able to formulate the question of "to do what", Emh scooted in as close as she could to Edgar. He soared with pride and a feeling of masculinity as he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her in near, closing any gaps between them that he could. Nuzzling her head into his chest, Emh was still cold, but wouldn't budge now for anything. As she grinned from ear to ear, causing a cramp in her cheeks, little did she realize Edgar was mirroring her. In a moment of not thinking, Edgar placed his lips atop her head, and held still. They were in a very innocent but loving embrace and neither one appeared to be in a hurry to part from it. The scene unfolded very tranquilly, Raven close to the fire and stretched out on her side, with Edgar and Emh perched on a log, wrapped around one another. It was a sight to be seen.

Few words were exchanged in the initial embrace, but as Edgar was forced to move to throw a few more logs on the fire, Emh moved with him until both of their weights shifting almost rolled them both off their seat. Reluctantly getting up to stoke the fire, he came back to his seat, and they continued their embrace, this time, words didn't escape them.

"Why can't it be just like this?" he asked, squeezing Emh tightly in his arms.

Unsure of how to answer, Emh said exactly what was on her mind. "I don't know how I'm supposed to answer, Edgar." Emh said, shyly and quietly. "My head says to answer you with…" she began, suddenly finding herself hushed by Edgar.

"I don't mean to cut you off sweetheart, I just want to say one thing before you answer me, is that alright?" Feeling her nod against his chest, Edgar continued. "I want you to answer the way you want to answer things. Answer what your heart tells you, not your gut or your head. So many of us follow the path we think we should, not the one we want or the one we feel deep inside. I'm tired of spending a life like that, of doing things for others before myself. So please, don't think of me, or what I want, or what you think should be. Answer how you want it to be, answer me from your heart".

Edgar had just managed to give her several outs, because with what he just told her, he would take her answer seriously. It was now up to Emh if she wanted to pursue this, for if she answered in a positive way for Edgar and her to continue forward, they most likely would try. But if she answered in favor of his wife, she may be deceiving herself and forcing a sizeable wedge between them and their friendship.

"Edgar," she sighed, "my answer is in two parts" she managed, figuring while still abiding by his requests, she was able to fulfill what she felt was necessary. "What I want and what I think I should do are two dramatically different things. You're a married man, you have children, everything is yelling at me to just say 'push the wife issue, keep arms length away, make him try and reconcile'" she said, her tone and volume lowering with each further admission of what she felt she needed to say. Feeling his chest breathe in deeply, she anticipated a response, but continued before he had a chance. "However," she said, feeling her heart pace quicken as she could hear Edgars pick up pace, too "I want to see where this goes. You've made my heart flutter since the first day I met you."

If there were a perfect time to steal away a first kiss, it would have been this very moment, slowly passing. Instead, they both exchanged a look, the fire casting warm hues on their face, as Emh gazed up into his dark eyes. Turning her head, she nuzzled closer into him, watching the fire slowly die. They had used the last of their wood; it was time to retreat to the cars where they would somehow try and get some sleep.

True, Sig's SUV would have provided much more space, Emh's Santa Fe's seats folded into one another and created enough space for two adults to stretch out in the back, and somewhere Raven could curl up. A few minutes in, Emh crawled up through the trunk, with Edgar following. Calling Raven in, she made quick work of the jump into the car and found comfort up front, curled on the passenger seat. Shutting the trunk door, Edgar crawled back, stretching out. He felt like a school boy next to his crush, and oh how badly he wanted to sneak away a kiss. He however still valued the vows he took with his wife. Whether they still meant squat with her or not, Edgar would not make any inappropriate moves as a married man before he would officially end it with Viv. He was torturing himself. He knew he and his wife were over, but until it was documented, he wanted to remain the faithful husband, no matter how compromising this scenario could be.

"I'm really cold," Emh shivered, teeth chattering.

"Where are your keys? Let's start the car and get it warmed up in here" he suggested, taking Emh's keys from her and starting the car up. Within minutes, the car was blasting the heat, making quick work of heating the entire car. Minutes later, Raven was out, snoring loudly to the amusement of the two jammed in the back of the car. Edgar and Emh were reclined just a little, neither found sleep to come very easy; so the next best thing was a round of 20 questions, allowing for conversation to over compensate for the fleeting shut eye.

Edgar felt the urge to start, wanting to address one of the elephants in the room: his "celebrity" status.

"Now, this is kind of out there, I have to say, because it means a lot of other things have happened in order for this to be a valid question," he babbled, "but honestly, is it beyond your willingness to accept a guy that has a lifestyle like mine? Something that is so absurd and well beyond the norm, that it's actually quite unique and oftentimes insanely stressful?"

Wading through all of his wordiness, Emh thought carefully before she answered. Smiling sweetly she factually stated "nope!"

Anticipating far more of an answer than that, followed by a few seconds of waiting, "and…" Edgar finally prompted.

"And what?"

"You can just say 'nope' and be fine with it all?" he asked, quizzical yet intrigued.

"Well, yes. It's what you do, right? I'm fascinated by what I learned from the last couple of days. I would love to see what it's like up there and meet everyone I can, maybe even one day see the ship or the harbors you frequent. It'd be neat to see the shipyard and grow a vocabulary of new words and terms I'd otherwise never know because of you…"

Minutes passed before a peep came from Edgar, worrying Emh that she had said something wrong or perhaps came off with an illusion of being together or something. She couldn't quite decipher a reason why he would have fallen so quiet unless he was asleep, but no signs pointed to that either. Readying herself to backpedal, Emh was stopped by Edgar who began talking again. "You want to see where I work?" His tone, a mixture of confusion and surprise was peculiar to her.

"Well of course! Is that odd?"

"No, no. It's just funny how full circle my life is becoming is all," he said, clearly with a mind track he was following that Emh wasn't privy to.

"Okay…" she said, making the statement more to acknowledge that she heard him, but really not sure what to say to that.

Taking her answer as a cue to elaborate, he wasted no time in confessing his thoughts. "Well, you see," he said, punctuating the importance of what he was saying by turning on his side to face her "what you just told me, was something I have been yearning to hear for years from my wife. I wanted her to take interest, to come see what I did, to take her up to the lands I worked out of and the seas that provided us the lifestyle we were leading. She never cared to, made me stop talking about the job the minute I was on land. She would often bully me about my job or belittle, or loved to say "look out Edgar, look at me, look at your feet. Do you see water? Do you see a ship deck? No? Then why are you talking about it. You're on dry land, not at sea. Leave it out there, because I don't want to hear."

Edgar grew quite as he re-lived some obviously painful moments. However it left Emh feeling out of sorts, how was she to respond? Was she even to say anything she wondered? Instead of trying to console him, she let it be. Talking about Viv in any form for Edgar, seemed like opening up Pandora's Box every single time. No sense in trying to interfere when it always took on its own life form. Emh just listened patiently, realizing with every growing actualization and revelation about this woman, the more she despised her.

Realizing he had complained a bit, Edgar reached in the dark to try and find Emh's hands. "Yes, sweetheart," he said in a softer tone, "that is odd for me to hear," he kept going, feeling her hand tense under his grasp, "but only because it's what I've always wanted to hear, and never have."

"Oh…" Emh replied, feeling Edgar fiddle with her fingers on the one hand. Turning to face him, despite not seeing a thing, she brought her other hand around, lacing with his. "Without gushing," she laughed, knowing fair well when she prefaced things like that, she often does just that. "You fascinate me. I've been captivated by you from the beginning, even when I knew it would only be a friendship as you told me of your problems. I didn't care. I knew I was graced with a unique and genuine friendship with you, and that simple fact alone was enough to satisfy. But you're like unwrapping a new gift every time we meet. Each layer shed reveals something else I'm equally enchanted by. You're like Christmas morning every time I see you."

Breath caught itself in Edgar's chest as her words struck chords in him that hadn't felt a thing for so long. Scooting closer to her, not letting go of her hands he was clasping, he rested his forehead on her chest, and in a low whisper 'thank you' he said. Somewhere, somehow, he knew things for him would be okay. With her by his side, his life had a chance. He had hope, optimism, rejuvenation he needed so desperately but thought he'd never see. Taking possession of one of her hands again, she brought it up to Edgar's head and softly ran it through his thick hair. Keeping the one hand between them laced, Edgar draped his other arm over and around her, becoming a sort of human blanket for her. Meanwhile, the slow pace she was dragging her fingers through his hair, beckoned him to sleep. Feeling the minute Edgar was asleep, his body grew heavier. Emh then closed her eyes and with the slow deep rhythm of Edgar's breathing, she too found herself drifting into the sandman's lair.

xXxXx

The next morning, before the sun was fully up, dawn held for them a surprise visit by the park ranger. A tapping on the glass window from the end of the ranger's flashlight woke Edgar from a deep sleep. Prone to wake at the slightest noise, Edgar sat up to a car fogged over; all the windows were cast in a thick condensation. Using his hands to clear away the window, he realized the tapping was coming from Emh's side. Opening the door, he snuck out as quietly as he could to go and greet the ranger, hoping they did not commit any true offenses. As his foot set out on the gravel, the ranger hearing someone come from the other side met Edgar at the trunk of the car.

Before words could come out, the ranger's expression ratted Edgar out; he had recognized him. This put him in a predicament: does he lie about who he is with, or does he play it off according to how the situation unfolds?

"Well if the cat ain't got my tongue," the ranger greeted him. "If it ain't Edgar Hansen, I do declare son, I'm a fan of yer show out there fishing and catching you some crab" he said, reaching his hand out to shake Edgar's with much enthusiasm. "What brings you out to this neck of the woods?"

Edgar smiling, "Oh just thought we'd get some time away from the hustle and bustle, you know."

"Well the boys won't believe this when I tell 'em," the ranger laughed. "Now up here these parts ain't opened quite yet, but it doesn't look like you've been camping…"

Bringing his hand to his neck, he began to laugh "well, you would never guess it but my friend got stuck up in these woods. Lost somewhere not far from here; took me awhile to locate and by the time we headed down, the gates were closed. We got locked in!"

The ranger laughed "ah shoot, that ain't the first time its happened. I suppose too the east exit woulda been mighty hard to navigate at night too, you did the smart thing."

"I hope we didn't cause too much of a problem, sir" Edgar said, leading into an apology.

"No harm done son, we're all ready to go, everything is loaded up for the season to start. We'll just call it a trial run. Boy howdy, the boys ain't gonna believe this one," he laughed again, patting Edgar on the arm as he walked back to his truck. A hand in the air as a sign off, Edgar sighed; he and Emh had clearly lucked out.

"Oh and son," he stopped, one foot already in the truck "give me a few to get down there and open up the gates. I have a couple stops as I make my way down, but you can be on your way in 45…"

Returning back to the door from which he left, Edgar opened to see Emh wide awake, stretching her limbs as she appeared to be stifling a laugh. "We in trouble?" Emh asked, looking to Edgar who had a bewildered look on his face.

"No, I guess cause I'm Edgar Hansen we can camp up here off season with no problems…" biting his tongue realizing he may have come off conceited. "I mean, he recognized me immediately and was interested in that. He let us go, no warning, a nice old timer."

"Well that was nice of him. I suppose our fun time is over now, huh?"

Shutting the door "We've got 45 more minutes" he said as he crawled in. Stretching out next to her, Edgar pulled Emh in closely. She shivered at the coolness of his touch, but within minutes was content in his arms. Eyes both shut, morning starting to slowly creep up, "I've got an idea," he said, realizing where they were.

"What's that?"

Hoping she was genuinely adventurous, but not minding if he heard a no, "we could get in a walk to see the sun rise…" he said, allowing it to linger in the air. He felt her rustle under his arms, stirring to try and sit up.

"Oooh," she commented, "lets!"

Opening her door, she did a rolling dismount. It wasn't as graceful as she would have liked, but she did the 'tada' anyhow. Opening the driver's side, Raven hopped across the consol and came out greeting Emh with a few exuberant jumps and dancing circles. Edgar met Emh around the front of the car and pointed to a path nearest him. "This way" he smiled, waiting for both Emh and Raven to make their way toward him.

Winding around a path that was well traveled but narrow, they came to an open valley with the mountain to the north, an absolutely stunning view. Walking a ways in an open prairie, Raven on cloud 9, Edgar let Emh lead the way, giving directions as she walked. Once coming to a clearing with a steep grade ahead, the two slowly made their way up. It was enough to cause burning in the calves and thighs; Edgar encouraged it would be worth it, despite the lack of her complaints.

Reaching the apex of the climb, a small plateau came into view. There was just enough light now to ease up on the careful walking and even pace themselves to the obvious spot ahead they were to stop. A few hundred feet down, at the edge of the plateau was a bench. Aimed directly east, this was going to bring about the most spectacular view of the rising sun; it gave Emh chills, the morning was clear, and a warm breeze was the icing on top.

As Emh sat, Edgar a pace behind, Raven curled up next to Emh on the left side as Edgar finally took a seat. A few moments passed before either spoke, "this is such a beautiful view, Edgar" Emh said, throwing a look over to her side seeing him staring out into the sky. Emh could tell he was a million miles away. A loving adoration overcame Emh for Edgar in the time they've spent together, but he was damaged. Trouble was, so was she, she was just a good actress that tried her best to overcome it and leave it all behind.

The horizon started to come alive with pinks and purples, and though the desire palpable between them, the two took in the sunrise under an umbrella of silence. At one point, scooting toward Edgar, he instinctually wrapped his one arm around her as the sun began to show itself after a small time lapse. In many ways it was incredibly romantic, bringing hope and promise to Emh's future with this man. While on the contrary it brought to mind the many marital failures Edgar had put up with. Including the one where his wife of 20+ years never once took in this very sight with him, despite his many requests. It was crazy to Edgar to accept that after barely a week, Emh had fulfilled more desires that went unrecognized by his wife, than his wife ever had.

For the first time in what felt like a nice dream that could go on forever, Edgar was brought back to reality by a buzzing from his phone. Amazed they were able to get signal, he saw 3 missed calls, 2 voicemails and a text from Sig. None of it sat well with Edgar, but rather than sour the experience, he instead used it as an unfortunate cue to head back.

Realizing Emh was watching him, she nodded before he could ever say a word. Standing, Raven followed Emh as she ushered for Edgar to follow. Not wanting to ask questions she didn't want to know the answers to, time was inevitably going to force it upon her. "Home awaits you, doesn't it?"

"I'm sure it's something like that," he sighed. Trouble with Emh, Edgar realized, was that the time with her went too fast. His reality lines blurred a bit much with her; she was too much of a comfort zone for him to have right now, when a large portion of his life was still a mangled wreck. Time was not on his side, he wasn't a man that had a lot of it; so each passing day meant another moment lost for him to reconcile a side of him, in order to move on with the other.

His mood was becoming sullen, he was sober but morose. As they reached the cars, Emh loaded Raven into the SUV and turned to Edgar. "This was something I won't forget," Emh noted, cheeks turning a burning red. "Please let me know how things go? Thanks for coming to get me," she smiled, pausing before she made the following statement "…I hope Sig was right…" and just like that, Emh got in her car and left.

Standing still, where Emh had left him, he watched the dust trail her car left disburse into the air. He barely caught what she said. Could it be? Reality slapped him back down a few notches as he looked down at his cell phone and read the text from Sig. "You need to get a hold of me. Viv's back."


	15. Chapter 14

**Author's Note**: This chapter has been a little brat. First I had conflicts as a writer on what I wanted this to focus on. The direction of the story is fine and well, but this just irked me. Part of it wrote itself, then others just had me hitting a brick wall. No bueno. But alas, it was completed a few days ago. Then I had uploading issues. So now it appears at this random hour it will load for me, so here goes nothing! The next chapter is well under it's way, so lets see if I can get back to the Fri/Sat update. .crosses fingers. In other news, many of our guys are back and done with the red crab fishing. It sucks to report that the Harris boys had a dismal season, but 6 left and 6 returned so there's always that to be super grateful for. They did some blue crab fishing, as well as scattered Phil's ashes. DC will be a sobering season this year! Time Bandit fellas are back, while our lovely fishermen on the Northwestern have just pulled into Dutch to offload within the last 12 hours or so. Hopefully the chocolate and coffee is plentiful, since I'm not certain they're done quite yet. Big quota + Sig = lotsa fishin. With that, I'll let you guys be. It's a bumpy ride ahead! And just because..._in no way, shape or form is this a true story. All crew from the Deadliest Catch (eg: Northwestern, Cornelia Marie, Time Bandit, etc) are the rightful owners of trademark and registered publishing for their specific namesakes. I make no claims of ownership; I am just a writer, doing what I love._

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* * *

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"Matt Bradley."

Surprised to see this number come up as a missed call, it definitely wasn't someone he thought would be calling him. When Edgar and Matt were last in the company of one another, Edgar was having his massive meltdown aboard the vessel. It was then in that last moment where Edgar spewed his verbal venom at the crew, Matt having to take the brunt of it. Upon Edgar's last recollection, Matt stared at him with a look of hurt and shock. It is a moment Edgar will remain ashamed of, long after any kind of apology. You see, Matt and Edgar went further back than even Edgar and Viv; the two had gone to grade school together and got into typical guy troubles together throughout high school. They were the kind of buddies who were seldom separated; a bond fused and Matt quickly became an extension of the Hansen's clan. Often he was referred to as "one of the brothers".

So it is here, many years later, that Edgar had a hard time accepting his title in what Matt's therapist often denoted as "cancerous people". Matt often recalled aloud what his therapist told him as he was aboard the vessel on a long and especially boring run. "Cancerous people in your life will be the ones to throw your failures back in your face," he reiterated in what one would assume was his attempt at his therapists tone. Troubling as it was though, that cancerous person was exactly what Edgar had become when he had his tirade.

Now, in the clarity of day, he realized at the time he was calling the kettle black… it wasn't something he had ever done before when it concerned his best friend. He didn't see Matt in that light; he too had shared similar demons and fought the good fight. The two often kept each other in check even when things got rough. So it weighed heavily on his mind recounting those words he lashed out when his world was falling apart. He was grabbing at straws as his personal ship was sinking, trying like hell to tread water and not go down without a fight. But sometimes, in the midst of battle, you will have friendly fire. Not a day goes by where Edgar hasn't thought to call up Matt, despite all the unresolved issues going on in his life, and make amends. This was the longest time he had ever gone without speaking to Matt, and it was the first time that they had ever parted on such cruel and unforgiving terms.

Matt, however, had come a lot longer way than Edgar; Matt knows the value of friends like Edgar and the desperate need for forgiveness. Friends like Edgar weren't all that common, especially for a self-described addict like Matt who had to take one day at a time. Matt had year's worth of time, if you add it up, in and out of rehab facilities and therapy sessions. In many ways, he was more capable of handling stressors than Edgar. However, their parting words stung and it took an exceptional amount of time to overcome the void and anger it stirred up in him. He knew due to Edgar's stubborn nature, eventually he would have to be the one to make the call. Matt was beginning to realize that had grown from the man he once was, where he would let a grudge go on for years. Matt knew he was the one who would have to take the higher road; he just had to be in the right head space to call. Time allowed the forgiveness Matt needed; however he knew his best friend wasn't quite up to snuff when it came to things like this.

Hearing nothing from the Hansen crew since they ported in Seattle, it was as if every man scattered to their private lives, leaving the friendships they solidified out at sea, on deck. It was an adjustment that the newest member Jake had a hard time grasping his first season on board. You _think_ you fuse together this amazing friendship, brothers bonded by the sea, only to return home and become instant strangers. It was a concept that harkened a lot of thoughts on whether their friendships on board were real, or just a façade to last the season. So when Matt stepped off board, his best friend already having left them weeks before, he was brought back to that feeling from so many years before. It was a stark reality for him that nothing was forever. But he was determined to fight and knew eventually he would be the one to try and reconcile what happened, moving forward. Matt Bradley is a fighter; his tenacity is why he's still alive.

It was after a few weeks in allowing things to calm down, when Matt finally allowed himself to consider calling Edgar. Having already talked it out to his therapist and sponsor, Matt devised his plan. When he decided to make that call, he had the backing and support of his recovery peers. Dialing Edgar, he heard his friend's voicemail come alive. Matt made sure to remain strong in his tone, speaking the words he knew were ones Edgar so badly needed to hear.

xXxXXx

Pressing the 1 on his keypad, Edgar listened in.

"Hey Edgar, it's me, Matt. Listen buddy, we've been through a lot together and I sure hope we can continue going through this crazy life together. You're my brother, man, and nothing you're going through do you ever have to go through alone. Therapy has taught me valuable lessons; I've been to the bottom of rock bottom and have forced myself to wade through all the bullshit to start coming back to the surface. You can't do these things alone. I know for awhile there've been things you've kept to yourself that have been slowly eating away at you. I've been there. Whether it's drugs, women, booze, I've gone through the hardships of it all, as well as the drama with Hannah and trying to get visitation rights. While I can't say for certain I've been through whatever it is you're going through, I can be of some help if you let me. As my sponsor tells me, "the most important of life's battles is the one we fight daily in the silent chambers of the soul." Let someone help, someone that knows you, that knows of your past and how to get you to a better place. I love you brother, don't forget that. Time heals my wounds, I forgive the words said on our trip; now let me help."

Edgar always knew Matt was the bigger man. He has seen his friend hit rock bottom more than a time or two, but he always kept a positive attitude and spirits that otherwise hadn't been matched by a single person. It bothered Edgar that Matt never crossed his mind, instead he began to use a new woman as a bandage for his problems, when all along the best medication and the best way to mend it, was right in front of his eyes. Matt was like a brother, without being a brother. He offered the objectivity like a brother, without having the high and mighty attitude of being his blood kin. Sig offered a shoulder, most definitely, but with Sig came the strings of Jules, the children, and when things got especially tense or heated, Sig typically reacted. The last thing Edgar needed was reactions, he just needed an ear.

Norman provided the ear, but too quickly announced obvious solutions that were often times easier said than done. It's hard for Norman to relate to a troubled marriage and substance abuse, and the mix of children in the equation, when he hadn't experienced any of it. Matt was the perfect candidate all along, and yet never had he crossed Edgar's mind.

Matt was known to be a bit punchy and puckish. He had a benevolence about him that offered Edgar the platform needed to confess his inner and obvious demons. While inadvertently offering a line for rhetoric of the snarky variety that Matt wouldn't capitalize on, it would have been something hard for Norman and Sig to not at least point out. Unfortunately, abhorrent and unnecessary retorts often came in light of deep revelations with Norman in a knee-jerk fashion, and Sig often couldn't help get in an unnecessary word or two with awful timing. While both brothers had their perks and areas where they excelled, this was something Edgar had been worried was beyond their realm of capabilities. But it wasn't of Matt's…

Still an hour away from his dooms day, Edgar called his buddy. He felt a sense of humiliation for the words he spoke, but with Matt already addressing them, meant Edgar didn't have to. It was just how the two worked their friendship in the years together. Matt often flew off the handle in fits of unprompted rage when he was in the thick of withdraw and recovery. A conversation or two led the men to an understanding where if one addressed it and made the apology, the other not need ruffle any feathers. It was water under the bridge.

When he heard his friend cheerfully pick up, knowing it was Edgar that was calling him, the malaise he had felt vanished. What came as an unexpected surprise by both was Edgar's inability to form words without choking over them. "Where are you Edgar?" Matt asked. Edgar looked at the mile marker, head peaking over to the GPS and he got out: "Buckley, I guess"

"You haven't passed through Enumclaw then. Stop by my place unless you want me to meet you somewhere."

"You're off of Walker, right?"

"Yep. Two houses down from the train tracks, off the dirt road."

"I'll be there in 10 minutes."

"Alright. I'll be out in the garage."

Taking note of this turn in his day, Edgar felt he was emotionally more burdened and bulked down with every passing minute. His coping skills were lacking, especially when in his nature and for so long, he was able to fool himself into thinking that everything was okay. More depressing, Edgar was letting himself truthfully believe the mayhem he was dealing with was "normal".

Making matters worse now was going to be the phone call he was placing to Sig to inform him of his delay. Sig could handle a few more hours without resolve, if it meant a piece of mind gained by Edgar. If things went how Edgar could foresee them going, however, once the floodgates opened in the presence of Matt, the hours would most likely add up. It had been far too long since he had seen Matt, and they had a lot of ground to cover.

xXxXx

As predicted, Sig was none too happy with the sideline, however he understood. Biting his tongue best he could, Sig didn't foretell Edgar of what was awaiting him. He already had said Viv was back, and part of him assumed this was the reason Edgar wasn't hurrying home.

Arriving to Matt's place, as told, Matt was tinkering around with an old hot rod he had in his garage. It was a pipe dream as a kid to restore a classic with his hands and only his, but little did he realize the length of time and the cost it would take. A lot of his finances that could have been used to restore it went down the drain, down his throat, in a vein or to pay for therapy. However, never one to get discouraged enough to quit, here he was, sitting on a work bench sanding away.

"Hey old timer," Edgar laughed, seeing Matt turn around. Standing and appearing as the grease monkey he was, Matt approached Edgar and gave him a bear hug. Matt's stocky frame (several inches shorter than Edgar), packed a lot of punch when it came to strength. Lifting him as he grasped on tightly, it brought a genuine smile to Edgar's otherwise expressionless face.

"Man, it's been rough, hasn't it?" Matt said, standing back and assessing his friend in front of him.

"I've had better days," he said, trying his best to reel it all in. Hansen men didn't cry. Usually.

Ushering him into the house, Matt's girlfriend had moved out a few weeks before, unbeknownst to Edgar, leaving the place looking disjointed and a tad empty. Realizing Edgar was bound to ask questions, "you first, me when we get the time. I'm okay though, it's for the better. Really..." Matt ushered, trying to prompt conversation with Edgar.

Rehashing his whole account, the same one known by Norman and Sig, Matt was appalled at the unfolding story. What made Matt stand out from both his brothers, too, was Matt knew Viv as long as Edgar. Being best friends, Matt got the details that Sig and Norman never did while Edgar and Viv were dating. He was surprised at the depth of her wickedness and cruelty, but couldn't understand why his friend never confided in him. "You waited this long to say anything?" Matt kept repeating, a look of worry sprawling his face with every new revelation.

"How can you not be a ball of rage? I've gone off for things substantially less devastating as this and yet you're still functioning?"

"Barely" Edgar piped in.

Trouble now, Edgar felt foolish revealing that there was another woman in the mix. Edgar was beginning to think his feelings were ones of a rebound in nature, and not genuine. Perhaps it was all for not, maybe this thing with Emh that was brewing was something he fancied and dreamt up. She was perfect in every way, but so was Viv at one time. Comparing the two though, he felt was unfair to Emh. It was all hitting him in a whirlwind way, questioning Emh whereas until now he was in a haze of all things related to her. It was a bubble he was comfortable in. While she let him be himself, somehow by doing so did a disservice to the reality of his life. It was all getting more confusing the harder he tried finding a flaw in her. It was troubling, but for all the layers of junk he was used to dealing with, a sliver of hope and a possible good woman seemed beyond his worthiness. He sighed heavily, shrugging and then spoke.

"Then there's Emh," Edgar mentioned. "She's been my saving grace since I got back to Seattle. She's this neighbor to a property of mine – one that I've been staying at since I came out this way. She had no idea who I was, what I did, was a transplant from a different state, just moved here. I fell for her, man, I've got all these intense feelings for her that I don't know are real or not. I actually just came from being with her. She got lost in Mt. Rainier, I came to find her, then we got locked in," he laughed, revealing things left and right at a speed in which Matt had a hard time keeping up with.

"She's phenomenal but young, outdoorsy and adventurous, sweet and intelligent, listens and is caring. Has compassion, let me name a stray she found…"

"Raven?" Matt said, staring off into space, not realizing he had said anything out loud.

"Yes, Raven…" Edgar said, accentuating it with a throwing of his arms in the way people do when fed up and out of words.

"Man, that's blindsiding, isn't it?" Matt managed, trying to provoke more of a response from Edgar than just a look of confusion and "I'm lost" spreading across his face.

"Do you love her?"

"Well Sig managed to tell her that he thought I was…"

Shifting his eyes, Matt stared at Edgar intently. Apparently there was more to the story than Edgar had shared.

"She eventually found out about who I was in one of the most bizarre and unexpected ways. The first friend she made here happened to be a production assistant or something and she was at the filming for After the Catch. Cue a whole debacle that was side stepped as best as possible, Sig coming in and putting his foot into it real good, then walking away."

"So answer the question, do you love her."

"I don't know. I can't possibly deal with this bullshit with Viv, especially when I don't know what is waiting for me after I leave here, only to then saunter into a new relationship like I'm not damaged goods and some broken man. She doesn't need to deal with my shit, yet she does so willingly and still will accept me as I am."

'…accepts me as I am…' that kept ringing through Matt's head. It became a mantra of words; mantra's often found their way in AA meetings and therapy sessions. "Accept me as I am" was a small sentence that was profound to men and women with diseases in terms of substance abuse. Those words were pivotal and essential in loving relationships with an evolving and recovering user. Matt didn't want to bring that up, but if she were one to accept Edgar's faults and work with them and not hold them against him and put herself above them, she was one to consider keeping around. The only thing that unsettled Matt about the mention of her was the timing was off. Way off.

"Well, you got to settle things one at a time not try and fix many things at once. Address the priorities, Edgar. First, if you want to move forward with the new gal, you've got to make sure to settle the things with the past so it doesn't hinder your future."

"Viv.."

"Yes, Viv. …Viv and then the matter of the children and go on from there; Viv won't make this easy nor will she be kind in a divorce. While it's probably unconventional to say this, no one, even the kids, would benefit in you two trying to reconcile. I think moving forward means dissolving this relationship for good, so someone like this girl with the-worst-timing-ever, can have a chance at being happy with you."

As the friends continued to talk, Matt and Edgar's conversation lasted for hours as predicted and anticipated by Edgar. It was nearing early afternoon before he finally headed toward Fall City to face the ugly truth of what was to be his future. He had 3 months and 3 weeks before he would be out in the shipyard, working and prepping the Northwestern for red crab season. That didn't amount to a lot of time for a divorce to happen and conclude. It looked bleak but Edgar had a sliver of hope that his brother did take the initiative to look into divorce attorneys for him. His mind was made up and a divorce was inevitable.

Another brief hug and a back pat later, Edgar drove out of Matt's neighborhood and back onto 169 where he headed north for Fall City. Phoning Sig, he tried to get a feel for what he was about to walk into head on.

"Well, obviously it's not going to be pretty" Sig announced, annunciating 'pretty' harshly. "You need to go in braced for the worst, gear yourself up mentally for a fight. She's pretty wicked and has been lashing out at both Jules and I on why you're not there yet. She has 'matters to resolve' she keeps telling us."

Edgar laughed. Where the laughter came from is as good of a guess to Sig as it was to Edgar. "She's really psycho Edgar, I'm sorry we never realize what kind of hell you were going through so quietly." Sig finally gestured over the phone in a somber tone not often heard coming out of him. "If we had any kind of clue, we would have been more involved in resolving it, or getting rid of her."

The conversation lasted long enough to enter him into his neighborhood. Sig had asked for Edgar to stop over and look over a couple things before he went to his home to confront Viv. Approaching the drive way he saw his brother standing at the entry, waiting. As Edgar approached, Sig opened the door and in a rare showing of emotion, Sig hugged his brother. It was a rarity for how close they were, but the men weren't showy with affection. 'He knows I love him' often rung through the Hansen homes.

Walking him into his den, he had Edgar pull up a chair where a very business-like tone set the atmosphere. A pile of papers stacked on each other lined his desk. "I've been busy," Sig laughed a bit embarrassed at the extent he had involved himself with Edgar's affairs. "These are drafted up legal papers for the dissolution of your marriage," Sig said, eyeing Edgar to see if there were any bad reactions waiting to come forth. "You gave me the green light so I took it as my position to get this ball rolling. If you are serious about this, then I suggest you take this middle stack here," Sig pointed, "and bring it along with now to confront her and serve her the divorce papers. It's all pretty cut and dry with the exception of the children, but I don't think they will consider her a fit parent to award custody of the kids to her.

The reality of this moment created a lump in Edgar's throat. Nodding his head, he picked up the stack of papers, hearing the briefing of what it all entailed and said. It was drafted up in such a way where figures and allowances weren't factored in. It was just the beginning stages of dissolution of marriage citing irreconcilable differences. Upon returning to Sig's, the other stacks represented a multitude of angles they could approach the divorce, once they heard how she handled the news. In other words, Sig was ready and waiting to fight for his brother.

At half past three, Edgar finally made his way to the home that he shared with his wife and children. The dream home he spent so much on, to fine tune every last detail to her liking and wish. It felt like the drive was the longest of his life, but what was worse was the walk into the home. Papers in hand, clutched tightly, he entered the home. He was not prepared for what would come of the tumultuous and turbulent fight he assumed was waiting for him. Viv never followed the beat of another drummer, but rather marched to the tune of her own song.

* * *

Pacing the first floor, Viv walked throughout the house she begged and pleaded for. She knew this was it, a forever goodbye, a farewell to a life so many would have killed for. Nothing touched her heart, made her smile, nor screamed out at her to "take me! Take me! Fight for me, you want me!" …not even her children. Viv liked the concept of being the martyr, even if it was only for her benefit. She wanted no media attention, she wanted to walk away and have a life she could create on her own, without interference; media attention would prohibit this wish. The children she never wanted would only weigh her down, being free, middle aged and single allowed for mobility. She would only have to worry about herself, an idea that sat well with her. One that sat well enough for her that it wouldn't disrupt her sleep at night.

She knew she could make it hard, especially tough on Edgar and fight for things just to fight. But even to Viv's own surprise, she didn't want to fight anymore. She had done enough, saw what her abilities could afford her and still was not fulfilled. Every wish being her command wasn't winning her over; perhaps she needed a challenge, someone to tell her "no" – someone that made her work for things. Everything with Edgar came too easy. However, that was how she wanted it _at the time_.

Knowing her husband, she would expect him to come in ready to fight, but push over at the first hint of anger from her. He was trained so well, so predictable, so easily defeated. It was sad to her, really. Edgar was a rough, rugged looking man on the outside and a lie-down-and-die pushover on the inside.

Frustrated he was taking his sweet time, a call or two to his brothers place a few doors down and ruffling their feathers entertained her while Edgar dragged his feet in getting home. Just because she could, she was going to throw a curveball. "Come for a fight? You'll get the sweetie in me," she thought "Come begging for forgiveness? I'll rip you to shreds…"

She really could be like that. A smug look on her faced spread as she heard the car approach the drive way. Looking into a floor length mirror just off the main hall, she glanced at her reflection; the smug curled into an approving smile. Taking seat in the kitchen on a stool, she waited; heart rate stabilized without a jitter in her. For someone who was on the brink of destroying what she fought for, one would have assumed there'd be some hint at a nervousness or anxiety. Viv truly was cold throughout; her small frame packed inside it a cruel and unusual being.

Despite staying out of his line of sight, Viv was able to see Edgar approach. His look was one that befuddled her, it already look resigned, but how could this be? She hadn't given him ultimatums, how was it he was already caving to her when he didn't know of her demands? It caught Viv off guard, surprised that she was already winning the fight before she was even certain how she was to play this round out. Furrowing her brow, she felt jilted. She was ready for a rumble, but it was to be a dud.

His footsteps hit the hardwood floors, hesitant in sound as the first two inside were the only ones heard for several passing moments. Wondering what he was doing, she kept still, eventually he would find her.

He rounded the corner sometime later. Meeting his eyes after so long, she felt nothing. Viv had been on a roller coaster the last few weeks. Somehow, somewhere inside she convinced herself she was once again in love with him. Yet here, the first time together since her revelation, provided proof that the epiphany in Alaska was a short lived dream. Part of her so grotesquely despised him that it took a lot to not haul off and hit him again; anger was desperate to manifest itself physically. She hadn't an advantage on him in height or weight, but she knew it wouldn't matter one way or another. He'd never strike her.

A cool and thick air of tension befell them, neither seemed all too quick to change that in a turn of events. Normally, Viv acknowledged, she would have given Edgar an earful by now. Noting the paper in his hands, though not certain their contents, she was fairly sure what it was. 'I didn't think he'd have it in him,' she thought to herself.

"Viv," he told her, voice stern and steady "I can't do this anymore. I can't handle the thought of this, the stress of this…"

"Oh honey," she laughed, "You don't even know the half of it."

So began the revelations of Vivia Hansen.

xXxXx

Closing his eyes tightly, trying hard to breathe and relax his nerves, Edgar's heart pounded in his chest. Heart rate so extreme, he tried helplessly to catch his breath as anxiety riddled his body in what was sure to be the fight of all fights. Waiting in the drive way was doing him no good, it didn't help the anxiety, it only prolonged the inevitable.

Arriving inside, he took two steps and caught glimpse of her sitting on the stool in the kitchen. He didn't anticipate the flood of emotions he had in him, many telling him to gear up, man up and go. The other was docile, talking him down, hoping to smooth things over. His head wasn't ready for what was about to go down, he knew this. He had let this go on for too long, time wasn't on his side. He had wasted opportunities due to continuing this charade called his marriage; it was go time.

Edgar walked into the kitchen.

Viv's eyes met his. They were dark, quite haunting and held such little life in them. She was a sad case, but yet the smirk on her face made every beat in his heart pulsate with animosity. Aggression was building in him, he had never quite blown his top off completely; today might be the first. Reciting in his head over and over what he'd say upon first sight, he started with "I can't do this," he heard himself say. The next few lines blurred in his head, fogging over if he really said them as she began laughing at him. "If you only knew," he heard her say. Edgar stopped, pulled the chair next to him around the table, and sat. "So tell me," he barked.

"You really want to know?"

"I think it's necessary," he retorted, suddenly finding an inner bravery he didn't know was there when it concerned the affairs of him and his wife.

"This whole thing has been a sham. The kids you so adore? I didn't want them. I let you knock me up because I didn't want Jules to have one up on me for everything. She and Sig can't have kids and I knew we could, so we did." She smiled, looking to Edgar's face as she saw the color drain from his face. "This _magnificent house_ you built because I so desperately wanted it? I couldn't care less if it burnt down! This shit," she pointed, towards nothing in particular but swung her finger around "Yeah, all this expensive crap? I don't care about it, not a single thing I care about. Not you not the two damn kids that have been a pain in my ass since before they were born, not this huge warehouse of a home, not the cars… nothing. This was all to prove a point. To prove I could break you, that I could get what I wanted, and you just let me. You believed me with wanting kids, you believed that I couldn't live without any of this and you believed I still loved you. God, what an idiot you are Edgar."

Clutching the papers tightly, Edgar's hands grew sweaty and his pulse was blindingly fast. He didn't say anything because he couldn't. His voice was lost in the moments after she spoke of their children like that. He was over stimulated and unable to comprehend anything, nothing was allowing him to react. He just sat, listening with the inability to stop at all she was revealing.

"The crazy thing of it all Edgar," she said, looking straight at him, realizing he wasn't going to do her the satisfaction of looking back "I think it's in your best interest to look at me when I talk" she pushed, seeing his head turn toward her. "I don't want any of this. I don't want the kids. I don't want the house. I don't want any of this shit in the house, I don't want your money, I don't want your name; I want nothing. I'd rather be poor than have your money, I'd rather be single than toting two children around that I feel nothing for and never wanted. You get to have them. I don't want them. Keep the house, it's a compound filled with crap anyway. Your money is no good to me, if it comes from you, I don't want it. You best realize what great favor I am doing for you, I could make your life hell until those brats were in their teens. I'm looking at it from my best interest though, if I have anything affiliated with you, somehow your name or image or something tied to you will follow me. I want a break, a clean, complete break away from you. I want no memories, no acknowledgment of you being in my life. I'm moving, I'm not staying in this state or anywhere near the fishing industry. I've had enough…" she continued ranting.

"Are you done?" Edgar managed, somehow finding his voice and realizing she was just ranting on and on. "Here, if you want it that easy, here, take these." He said, handing her the papers Sig had an attorney draft up for her.

"It's divorce papers, should be clean cut."

"Gladly," she said, pulling the papers out of his hands. "I'm taking only my personal belongings. I seriously don't want a thing. I'm gone after this".

"Why did you wait so long if you've felt like this for years?" Edgar asked, weighed down by this new information, hurt beyond measure, but relieved to know there was finally a resolution on the horizon. His voice caught from the choking back of tears caused for a deeper and huskier tone. "I mean if my children and I were so unlovable and detestable and I was so terrible to be with for all these years, why did you let yourself suffer?" Edgar said, snarky and finding his voice and strength coming back tenfold as he realized now was his time to lash out.

Viv sat there, not amused.

"God damn Viv, you could have left me years ago, before you brought our kids in. I had a suspicion of whether you were abusive to them, but now I have my answer. Even if you wanted them, neither god nor man could stand in my way to protect these kids from you. They're my life"

As Edgar kept talking, Viv was undoing her keychain. She had a lengthy set, keys to the cars, and the various locks on the massive home. Mixed in there were keys to her parent's home, a PO Box they kept, and the keys to the side door of Sig and Jules place. One by one, she removed the keys, lining them up in a row. There was the house key, the dead bolt and the garage door. Then there was the SUV, the key to the homes Edgar was working on, including the one nearest Lake Kayak. Each one she allowed to make a distinct clank, certain to keep his attention, each making a statement. When they were all laid out, it made quite the chain. Each key held their own share of memories, some more vivid than others, but memories no less.

Looking to her, curious to know if there was a catch, "that's it Edgar. I'm trying to keep cool, so I'll just get going. I've got a car coming to pick me up. It was the last expense I'll have charged. My cards are right here," she said, pulling them from her pocket. "Every last one, I've also had a lawyer draft up forms to dissolve all our joint accounts; you'll find my required signatures on all of them". Viv moved to the left so Edgar could see what she was talking about, and as sure as he was sitting there, was there a pile of forms, cards, statements and things Edgar never thought Viv would willingly surrender. After so many years of her fighting tooth and nail for the extravagant items and posh standards, Viv offered them up as if they were worthless. She was genuinely puzzling Edgar.

"What about my answers?" Edgar demanded, paying only slight attention to the pile she offered up.

"I guess you'll just have to keep wondering." Viv smiled, standing and passing by her husband. Taking one last look throughout the home, she sighed, noticing the driver had just pulled up. "Finally, home free" she stated, loud enough for Edgar to hear.

And just like that, Viv walked out the door.

Edgar was stunned and partially shell shocked. Viv would forever hold that key to the answers Edgar knew now he would never receive. For someone such as him, the one who could not settle until his questions had answers - this would be devastating.

xXxXx

Watching from his window, the best he could, binoculars pushed to the bridge of his nose, Sig gave a play by play to his anxious wife on the happenings on his brother's property. "She's just gotten into a town car, looks like it's a hired driver. I'm heading over there" he replied, hushing his wife of her concerns that he need not meddle. "He's my brother, Jules, I've got to go."

Minutes later, Sig was in Edgar's kitchen, staring at the pile of documents that signed away her every right, including signatures on the papers Edgar had brought from Sig's stack. "This is unbelievable," Sig said, absolutely astounded at the sight before him. "Every last detail, Edgar, bank statements, pension, alimony, custody, credit cards, titles, deeds, cars… she didn't leave a leaf unturned."

Edgar having initially started out next to his brother as they thumbed through the papers, had ended back at the kitchen table where he was slammed with the details of Viv's misery and her dreadful revelations. Numb wasn't quite adequate to describe his current state, he felt like he were floating in a bizarre dream, verging on nightmare. It was over, so why was he not as elated as his brother who couldn't seem to contain his excitement?

"All you need to do is sign these papers, Edgar, and have 'em submitted and it should be fine. She was very thorough and quite honestly, these were already put together as it appears by an attorney. She must have been planning this for awhile," he said, giving his brother a pitied look. "None of this will be contested, as soon as it's submitted, it'll be approved and everything will be done. This could be one for the history books in how fast it'll be processed and finalized."

"Goodie," Edgar thought to himself. His mood was messed up, everything around him was a constant reminder of her now, of what could have been, what should have been.

"I need to get out of this place, it needs to be sold, I don't want to be back here," Edgar said, nearing a panic attack.

Sig came to his brother's side, patting his back, "hey hey, it'll be okay," he hushed him, realizing they should be leaving the house. "I'll take you back to my place and we can deal with this all over there."

"I need to get away Sig," Edgar said, a look showing Sig he was serious, almost as if he were about to plea.

"Do you want me to take you?"

"No, I'll be alright," he said, trying his best to save face and convince his brother who now was watching his every move and every blink like a hawk.

"Are you sure? You're not going to go and do something stupid, are you?"

"No, no. I'm beyond that, I've been stressed into sobriety," he laughed.

"Where are you going to go?"

"I'll head back to Matt's place, he said to talk to him if I needed it and I think he's gonna be a good one to vent this out to. Just watch over my babies tonight and I'll be back tomorrow to be with them"

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Alright," Sig said, knowing to fight was not worth the effort. Conceding to Edgar's wishes, the two headed for the door. Before they parted for the night, Sig brought down his typical guard and bear hugged his brother again. And as he did so, he promised him a better future. "This is a new beginning, Edgar, a second chance. You should never have gone through that hell that you did, especially when so many of us could have helped but had no idea. I love you man, this is over. It's over. It's done. You'll be better because of this, you'll be happy. Maybe now you can have the happiness you always wanted." Sig said, having yet to let go of his tight hold on Edgar. Pulling away, they stared at one another in the eye; a head nod on Edgar's part allow for the two to part.

And just like that it was over.


	16. Chapter 15

So I really just suck at life for the moment. RL stressors have consumed every ounce of time, and this chapter remained idled because of that. No excuse other than that. I can assure you though as some have asked, that no, this story will never be abandoned. I will see this through to the end. Anyway, as I always say, _in no way, shape or form is this a true story. All crew from the Deadliest Catch (eg: Northwestern, Cornelia Marie, Time Bandit, etc) are the rightful owners of trademark and registered publishing for their specific namesakes. I make no claims of ownership; I am just a writer, doing what I love.  
_

* * *

A vibration buzzed atop Emh's nightstand and the 'Can Can' began to ring throughout her sleepy home. In the midst of her slumber, she reached for the phone and flipped it open. She managed a "Hello?" in a gravelly voice.

A guttural "Hey" responded, giving a subtle hint as to who it was.

Sobering quickly from her lucid dreaming just seconds before, she righted herself in her bed, worried something was wrong. Typically calls in the past at this hour indicated some sort of trouble, although there have been cases of incidental drunk dials… this didn't strike her as that case. Having just woken from a deep sleep, her mind jumped to worry mode.

Focusing her eyes on the blaring red lights that were flashing their neon reminder of a 2:02am time, Emh retorted back "hey?"

Edgar knew to say something right off the bat in an apologetic manner to keep the call on its righted path. "I'm sorry this is late, I can't sleep and just needed someone to talk to," he said, voice growing quieter with the passing moment.

"Where are you? Are you okay?"

"I'm at Matt's house." Taking a moment to pause and recall if he had ever discussed Matt with her, when he didn't hear a quizzical response, Edgar assumed he had. "He's housing me here for the night… I really shouldn't be left alone all things considered."

Sitting straight up, (if she weren't wide awake before, she was now) Emh voiced her concerns: "what do you mean? Are you alright?"

Sighing, he wasn't sure if he dared tell her without being in person. Late night conversations such as this wouldn't necessarily be earmarked as realities come tomorrow. Atop that, the content of what the discussion would entail wasn't something he felt like rehashing at this hour. Frankly, he just wanted to hear her voice. It calmed him in a way he realized no others could.

"I'm alright," he sighed, sure that he wasn't going to convince her with that answer. "I want to see you though, if that's okay. I'm not in a good head space but I just need your tranquility to get me through these next few days."

"Absolutely," she said without a moment of hesitation. As Emh tried to stay calm, inside she was stirring with curiosity and discomfort with the turn of events. Emh had little more than a glimpse into the reality of Edgar's home life; nothing could prepare her for the ugly truth she would learn in such a sort amount of time. Discerning in her head whether now was a time to try and fish around for details, she thought better of it and just listened to him.

Unsure of how to prompt a conversation, Emh didn't want to provoke a reaction that would further damage Edgar or exasperate the feelings he was enduring. She wasn't entirely certain what his duress was from, but a sneaking suspicion did linger. So due in part to her ignorance of the situation, Emh felt it in best efforts to keep him at a steady baseline, allowing Edgar to take the conversation reigns. Unfortunately he did little with them.

Over the entire duration the two were on the phone, they made little headway. Emh was now sitting upright; her bedroom was lit by the bed side lamp she had turned on minutes after his phone call woke her. Eyes heavy but mind in overdrive, she was concerned for Edgar; Emh tried her hardest to not let her voice show it. Edgar sounded like he was desperate for a friend, but she couldn't understand why the place he was staying nor the company that was keeping him, was not catering to his needs. Any good friend would, right?

Under his own volition, Edgar started to open up forty-five minutes later; Emh all the while kept vigil and a watchful eye on the clock. It was a welcomed surprise to hear a surge in his talking! It appeared that somewhere the floodgates decided to open and he abruptly let a little more information out into the open.

"It's over Emh," he said in a voice so hushed that even while straining to hear, left Emh unsure she heard the words correctly. As though she should respond to such a statement with something, Emh came up empty handed. "It's over," he repeated, saying it again as though he too needed to hear the words again. "I can say it a million times and it will never change. It's finally done. No more worries and scares of what she might do to my kids. What she might say to try and provoke a reaction, no more demands, no more unrealistic expectations that I cannot live up to… Viv and I are finally through."

The rate at which the words came out began to quicken in their pace. It seemed the more that funneled through his quiet voice, the better his mood seemed. "My marriage is over," he repeated again and again.

As that last proclamation was announced, a lull, then stillness rang through their connected lines. The silence lasted temporarily when abruptly it turned with a rush of emotions, revealing itself to Emh in the sounds of Edgar's weeping. Her heart ached at the mental visual burning into her mind, accompanied by the sounds of such a deeply wounded man.

This unforeseen release of emotion by Edgar left Emh confused and Edgar embarrassed. Emh contemplated the sounds heard; how could these be happy tears when he sounded so sad? Or were they simply tears from exhaustion at this now 3am hour? "Edgar, sweetheart, where are you?" Emh asked, taking a gamble with the open term of endearment. "Do you want me to come get you, because I will if you need me to…?"

"No, no," he said, wiping his eyes in the dark living room that was his home for the night. "Matt's here and it's probably better that I stay with him. Besides, you don't deserve to deal with a broken, weighed-down-by-baggage guy like me."

That comment irked and frustrated Emh. It was one thing to have a pity party and go through the motions of whatever it was he was now dealing with, it was another to try and shield her from whatever consequences he brought; it was her choice to have him in her life. Biting her tongue, trying best to respond to that remark with as much grace as possible, "I choose to have you in my life, I'm aware that parts of your life will remain with you, but when all is said and done, I don't care, it's you that I look at. Not the baggage you speak of."

Edgar fell silent, lost in his own thoughts. Emh knew not to push, this…whatever _this_ was between them was something that held promise but it had to happen naturally. To force it would mean to ruin it, and pouncing on a freshly separated man wasn't going to keep that promise for a future. Now, she knew, was just a time to be there for him, no ulterior motives. Emh wasn't like that anyway.

"I appreciate that Emh," he said, "but before you don't deem me too damaged to love, let me in so I can show you the whole story."

"I'm always here to listen, Edgar, you can tell me anything. You know this," Emh said, brows furrowing wondering why he would even question telling her something. "I can handle things, I've weathered many storms before now; I won't break under the pressure."

He laughed into the receiver; his husky smoker's chuckle swelled her heart. Something about his laugh… it was becoming one of her favorite sounds. "And I mean it Edgar. You have me; I'm going to be here for you." Realizing she may be coming off a bit too adoring, she pulled back a little. However, she needed to make her point, and she definitely did.

As Edgar now was stretched out on the sofa, his dark aura slowly lightened. This conversation with Emh was churning about all sorts of positive feelings, creating an internal struggle. In some ways it was as if Emh's positive words and energy were expelling the residual pessimism and negativity of Viv. 'How can someone have such an effect?' he wondered to himself. The question could be asked of both Viv and Emh. For how could one such as Viv grasp hold of Edgar in a cynical, detrimental way while Emh on the contrary could become his Beatrice, holding for him a vision of beatific love?

Conversation slowly simmered as Edgar considered that notion in his head. Emh waited patiently between pauses as she had done in this same conversation, watching the minutes slowly tick by. With each passing moment without word from Edgar, an assumption confirmed itself. Emh could hear a deep, steady breath begin escaping his mouth, going straight from his receiver into her ear. A smile sprawled across Emh's face. The sweet man had fallen asleep. "Good night Edgar" she whispered.

* * *

"Where is he?" Jules asked, seeing Sig turn up alone.

"He decided to go back to Matt's place. I guess he came from there and they're going to hang out and talk tonight." Sig responded as he walked around, seemingly displaced and agitated – yet, also happy?

"What happened? What's going on though?" she pushed, needing to know more details.

"That woman… she is something else," he said, staring at his wife. "She laid it all out on the line. Told him every last cruel, low blow… and then you know what she did?" Asking a rhetorical question, "she just walked. She had prepared all these papers long ago it seems, that forfeited all her rights. She's already got everything signed. She gave up everything she would rightfully have claims to and then some in order to break all ties with him. She said 'if it was attached to him, she doesn't want it'. She didn't demand anything, she just wants to walk away a free woman and I guess forget the last 30 years."

Jules's look of shock was just about what Sig expected from his wife. Tears welled up from both anger and sadness for her brother-in-law, but they remained unshed. "That son of a bitch," she yelled. Jules yelling was not a sight often seen; Sig was taken back. "If I ever see that woman again…" she continued but Sig cut her short.

"I don't think that's likely. She took what little clothing she wanted, had a town car pick her up and I guess she's flying out somewhere. She's just picking up and leaving. No word on if her parents are aware of that or not, but she flew the coop. She's gone, for good."

"GOOD," Jules huffed then walked away.

Sig meanwhile kept thumbing through one document after another with Viv's chicken scratch signature in plain sight. It was baffling. He didn't think his sister-in-law was one to concede or give up just like that. He expected a fight, but in ways he knew this too could damage his brother just as bad as a long drawn out divorce. Edgar was often tenacious, he needed answers, he needed reasons and he typically would not relent until he was content. The angry thoughts racing through Sig's head were best kept there; fancy language didn't often ring through the home or around his wife if he could help it.

Making a call over to the attorney that drafted up the documents, Sig called for him to make a personal visit after his work day was over. Before Sig had allowed Edgar to leave, he had every paper signed and initialed. There wasn't a single t uncrossed nor I undotted; before the day was over Sig was going to see to it that his brother's divorce papers were filed.

With the stack of papers growing higher by the hour, Sig tossed his reading glasses onto his desk, leaned back in his leather swivel chair and held the bridge of his nose. He was straining his eyes and the mounting paper work was giving him a headache. Edgar's life was giving him a headache, really. At half past seven, the chimes rang throughout Sig's home. Reaching the door to see Patrick, the attorney, Sig greeted him with a firm handshake and a broad smile. Before Patrick could even comment, Sig looked and spoke for him "I know unbelievable, right?"

Leading Patrick into the office, it was going to be a long night if they were to accomplish what Sig set out to complete. Jules being the ever gracious host, already had a pot of coffee percolating and the smell of fresh rolls started to waft through the air. This little tidbit about Jules would later be something that both she and Emh had in common. You're frustrated? You bake.

Having taken a seat next to the desk, it became a work station that had one mission: complete Edgar's divorce. With signatures of both parties already present on the documents, now it was just a matter of facts checking, signature checking, and the legalities of the whole matter. Considering the assets that Edgar had and the complete surrendering of Viv's rights, one would think it would be cut and dry. However, because she was willingly offering up her rights, both as a wife, as a mother and as an individual, Patrick would need to assure in the divorce proceedings that it was iron clad. Viv reneging on something wasn't beyond her if history had any say, and Sig was always suspicious. Therefore a long evening was in store.

"Never in my years of practice have I ever seen this," Patrick said, while reading yet another document where Viv signed and sealed the deal that she didn't want their estate. Another which surrendered all her rights to the monetary assets and another, perhaps most baffling, a complete hand over of the children to Edgar. What was kind of interesting, one that Sig clearly hadn't seen, was what it said in the clause. "I assume you saw this bit of information and are okay with it?" Patrick spoke, bending his head, his glasses falling to the tip of his nose as he looked from above his lenses.

"JULES," Sig shouted "get in here," he said in words coming out more like an order.

Seeing Jules scamper in, 'what, what is it?' She inquired.

"You need to read this," he said, looking to her in astonishment.

When Jules arrived by her husband's side, he placed his hand at the small of her back. The papers heading was 'Petition for Appointing Full Guardianship' and below the names cast were as followed: '_Primary and Full Physical Custody: Edgar S. Hansen. Guardianship: Sigurd J. Hansen & Jules M. Hansen'_.

A gasp let Sig know she had read what it said, and they both looked to Patrick and almost in unison "what does this mean?"

Looking to them both, "well, if you two agree, as it appears the two parents below have," he said by pointing "observe signature a," he said showing Viv's and "observe signature b" he continued, "it means that while Edgar will have full and complete possession of his children physically and otherwise, you two are legally viewed by the state of Washington as guardians, should you agree."

"Who did this?" Jules asked.

"These papers were drafted by the petitioner, ma'am, these are Viv's papers. They're far more sophisticated and detailed than what Sig and I had drafted. These are papers that once the needed signatures are in place it goes directly to the judge. No volleys here."

Flabbergasted would best describe Jules at the moment. "Well, absolutely. I love those children," she said, looking to her husband "honey..?"

"Well of course we'd be happy. I'm just shocked that Viv thought to add us into this, all things considered," he said, looking to see his wife with a priceless look on her face. "Yes, Patrick, we're fine with it, more than fine."

Revelations seemed to turn up every other document. "Listen to this," Patrick said to Sig "Petitioner will surrender all items, possession, keys, and articles both purchased as a couple and as an individual with joint funds. All said items that were possession of petitioner are then up to the defendant to dispose of or see to it of their remaining state." Looking to see Sig just stare at him in bewilderment, "this is not something you see in legal papers of the Petitioner, it's always demands for the Defendant… this is so bizarre, but now I can honestly say I've seen everything."

xXxXx

Several hours had already passed and Jules's rolls and coffee were a hit as they kept at the paper work. It seemed a daunting task, but Sig chalked it up to a labor of love for his brother. Patrick on the other hand was bemused by the petitioner and found this time to fly. They were doing a lot of paralegal work however it didn't bother him this time because the case was so unusual. There were close to 1'000 documents between the files Patrick had drafted up and the documents that Viv had supplied to Edgar. Normal divorce papers see a fraction of the paperwork, but there was a lot at stake and this was no usual run of the mill divorce. The livelihood of the brothers could have potentially been at stake or become a bargaining chip. The three Hansen brothers own the Northwestern outright, and as a wife of an owner, she could have fought for her share. _Could have_ being the wording; that reason and dozens others were why it became a necessity to draft up so many documents and cover every aspect.

Ten to twelve, many hours under their belt, they were in the home stretch. Looking to Patrick, Sig offered up a snifter of Brandy. Two hours and a drink later, the paperwork was done. "I can have these filed," he said, looking to his watch, "in about 5 hours," Patrick noted with a yawn. "Seattle-King County court will have it filed with today's time stamp."

"Excellent," Sig said, standing to stretch. "Say, feel free to use our guest room if you'd rather not head home at this hour."

"No, that'll be fine Sig," Patrick assured, "my condo is close to the courthouse anyway, no troubles."

"So what's done is done? Everything is in order and my brother will be okay?" Sig asked as he and Patrick walked toward the front door.

As Patrick put on his dress coat, he stopped and grinned. "Let us just put it this way Sig. Viv didn't want anything, so Viv won't be getting anything."

A devilish smile cast across Sig's face. "Perfect," he said. With a handshake and a job well done, Sig shut the door behind Patrick. Turning down the last of the lights, he headed upstairs feeling lighter than a feather. Passing by the kids bedrooms in the mean time, both Elsa and Junior were fast asleep. 'Night kids,' he whispered, heading to the master suit to join his wife who had already been asleep for several hours. Scooting in behind her, he spooned her closely trying not to startle her. And in a whispered victory he spoke to Jules "it's finally done."

* * *

The smell of exhaust woke Edgar; he had slept in till nearly twelve. If it weren't for the fumes seeping in that woke him from their noxious smell, who knows when he would have awaken. Matt had his cousin over and they were revving the big block Chevy, releasing carbon and whatnot. Edgar wasn't the greatest with cars, wasn't exactly his forte. However, he could appreciate someone so dedicated to their craft, which is what both Matt and his cousin Alfi were. Seeing the pot of coffee percolating on the stove from where he sat, he made quick work of hopping to his feet, feeling the old familiar aches and pains of his strained, and worn fishermen body. Who knew 39 could feel so old? A cracking knee joint and a lower ache in his lumbar region, he hobbled to the counter for a cup and some aspirin. Both which conveniently were located next to one another. Matt was a fishermen, too. He too was familiar with the residual pains of an overworked body.

Sauntering around the kitchen, he made a piece of wheat toast to go with his black coffee; a combination, along with the aspirin that was sure to irritate his stomach later. He needed real food, real sustenance. However, with the fishermen cocktail he was consuming, he held little appetite. The events leading to now had washed away any desires; from eating, to drinking, to sleeping to even thinking. It was a road he felt he has traveled before, the haze of being intoxicated and high felt a lot like this, without the numbness. Usually there was some underlying good sensation with the hit and the booze, this just felt awful. Depression, as it were.

Staring out the window, towards the sunny Seattle sky, the weather was not cooperating. He didn't want to soak up the sun's rays and in a world where things seemed cheery and bright. He needed the cold rain, the dreary day, a time to sulk and have his moment. However, with such a day, full of sunshine and people in better moods than normal, it drifted his mind to her; No, not Viv, Emh this time.

'Hey Matt,' Edgar hollered over the revving engine. The smoke from the pipes and the air filtering around drenched in toxins that smelled delightful and noxious, 'Matt' he continued to holler. Eventually after waiting around, he was spotted. Watching as Matt motioned to his cousin to ease off the pedal; the deafening noise reduced enough to hear each other's voices.

"Mornin' sunshine," he laughed, coming closer to Matt. Taking out his ear plugs, he came closer to his buddy, pointing to head out of the garage and get into some fresher air. Shaking his head and pointing inward, Matt nodded in agreement and they reentered the home via the garage entrance.

"What have you got planned today?" Edgar asked.

The ringing in Matt's ears was so dominating, he held his index finger up and mouthed 'one sec'. A minute or so passed before Matt asked for him to repeat what he had originally said. "Oh, Oh, yeah. Not a whole lot buddy. Time between trips I'm just a home body, lay low, work on the car, try and stay out of trouble," he scoffed, "you know, that whole bit."

"So nothing set in stone today!"

"Not exactly, why, what's on your mind?"

"I need a drive," he laughed, "but I don't feel like driving."

"Sure, we can go driving. Got any place in mind?"

"Nah, I'll fuel us up and you drive. Eventually my mind will start to process things; I guess I just need to talk. And my two initial knee jerk reactions are not ones I can or should act on."

Nodding all too quickly, knowing exactly what he was getting at and the dire situation it could turn to at the flip of a switch, Matt dropped everything, and herded his friend into getting ready so they could leave. Within 20 minutes, Edgar and Matt were off in the SUV, windows down, soaking up the sun, and driving towards the coast, leaving his cousin behind to work on the car. Doing this drive was everything Edgar didn't want to do, (be among people, out in the sun, forced to converse) but knew it probably wouldn't hurt.

As they drove in a car that remained silent except for Matt's talking, Edgar was deep in thought. He was beginning to act like Norman, thinking mostly, talking infrequently. Every now and again a profound thought would hit him, but he often let it slide, just enjoying the ride. Passing by familiar places, Edgar had but one request.. "I'd like to stay away from Fall City if we could. I don't need a reminder of my ex-wife right now."

"Ex-wife..." Edgar managed again. He looked to Matt, Matt looking to him, having heard this for the first time out of his mouth without a cringe, a wince or even a real reaction. It simply came out.

"You'll be okay, buddy" Matt reassured. "I don't think you'll need to worry so much about this. Your hearts hurting plenty, I'm sure, but it does get better with time. I've been there."

"She never wanted the kids. She said she hated them as much as she hated me. That's not something a person can take hearing..."

"Yeah but Edgar, you do love those children. So she hates the kids existence as well as yours, I don't think there's anyone's existence besides her own that she _does_ love. Those children of yours are doted on and adored by all of us. Your brother and sister-in-law would take them if they could. They also love their uncle Matt" he laughed, trying to get a positive reaction out of him "they know they can rough house with me when you aren't looking," he said, realizing that the sound of rough housing with his 3-year-old daughter probably wasn't the best thing to admit now. "You get what I mean," Matt said, shaking his head.

"Hell, look at what Lori did to me all those years ago," Matt continued, mentioning a topic he hadn't freely spoken of since it all went down nearly a decade before. "The length of time Elsa has been around was how long I loved and thought that Audrey was mine. You know how much I was in love with Lori, but she went crazy after Audrey was born. It killed me that I stayed around for that little girl, only to find that she led me to believe I was the father, when I wasn't. All that while she was keeping in contact with her real father, and just let me think I was Audrey's dad to keep a steady income. I was a paycheck. "She was never yours. Even as dumb as you are, you should know she looks nothing like you" he mimicked, his voice straining at the painful rehashing of such a bad point in his life. "That damn near killed me, literally."

Edgar felt like suddenly he had two helpings of a humble pie. He had it bad, sure. He was devastated, yes, but what Matt went through was truly horrific. Prior to then, his best friend had been clean for nearly 5 years. He met Lori in a recovery program, and two years later, he brought a daughter into the world with her; a woman he loved and adored and a baby of their own. Or, so he thought. It was after a heated argument when Matt questioned her fidelity that she blew up and told him the truth. While she didn't try and renege on the revelation, she did pull on his heart strings and manage a few months more of financial support before Matt got wise, and then came crashing down. She was why he relapsed. "18 months sober," he said if he was being honest with himself. He often tells people other lengths of time. It's a recovering addict's 101, he has said. If they look like they're the type to judge, you bulk up the time, if they're someone that it won't mind, you round up by the year. If it's your best friend, you tell the truth.

"18 months," Edgar repeated, sucking down a cigarette "18 months of freedom," he continued. "I'm proud of you, man!" Though secretly, he recalled vividly in a heated fight Matt had with Jake, another Northwestern member struggling with his own addiction, Matt declared he was clean for 2 years, and that was a year ago. Even so, sober is sober is sober. It does not get any easier, once an addict, always an addict. It's just a matter of how much self-control one truly has.

In those few minutes that he felt passed by, nearly a hundred had on the mile markers. And in a sigh of relief, it gave him some clarity and a break from the daunting thoughts that always turned back to Vivia. "What do you suggest about Emh, Matt?" he broke through, piercing the silence with a loaded question.

"Do you love her?"

"It's too early for that..."

"Then do you think you could love her?"

"Yes. I'm already falling, just not there quite yet."

"Then go for it. But hold back for a little while. Don't let her become your crutch. You owe it to the future you two could have, to not poison it with the toxins that will float around from this thing with Viv. Give it some time, the space it needs and the length you need to recover. If you love her, then don't let her become a band aid."

"What if she won't wait around...?"

"I'm not saying to be distant, you can definitely let her know what's up and how you feel... just give the physical and emotional aspect some time."

"It's not even like that," Edgar paused, trying to reel in his thoughts. "Physical," he laughed. "I won't even get into that. Man, it's been so long."

"Well can't be too long.. how old is Junior?"

"Exactly as old as Junior, plus 9 months..."

"I know how that goes," Matt laughed. "Ah, the life of a sailor," he said, looking to see the expression on Edgar's face perplexed. "I mean, well, a married sailor. Scratch that, a sailor married to Viv." Letting his own words sink in, his face contorted in a sour expression "wow, man, yeah.. ouch."

The two buddies began to laugh. "Next subject," Edgar pled.

Moon Palace Restaurant, a hidden gem of Matt's began nagging him when he realized he was heading into Sequim. "Hungry?"

"Actually, yeah, I am surprisingly."

"Awesome," Matt laughed, turning onto E Washington Street. "Excellent Chinese food here; we'll stop in for a bite."

* * *

All morning long Emh's mood was varying; after Edgar's early morning/late night call, it was all she could think of. Not wanting to succumb to negative feelings, trying best to stay upbeat most days, today she gave in. After a morning trip on the lake in her kayak with Raven swimming around her, when that didn't lift her spirits, she knew she was facing an uphill battle. "Today's just not going to be fun, Rave," she said, petting the top of Raven's head that didn't dare leave Emh's side today. Dogs, funny aren't they? Always able to sniff out our feelings; Raven kept at it with her unwavering affection, trying to liven up her owners mood.

Plopping on the couch, she was tempted to ring Edgar. It was nearing 11 and by rights, she knew he would be awake. However, Emh was Emh and opted against that urge. She'd busy herself with mindless work today and perhaps gain control of her life again. She left Minnesota to rid herself of drama and start new, yet somehow life was beginning to feel familiar in that old unabated sense where she wasn't the captain of her ship. Starting new shouldn't feel like rehashing old problems, just with new people and different scenery. Since the week she arrived in Washington, she hadn't a sense of individual identity. It was always her & Edgar from her first memories here.

Spread out on the sofa, curious about why her moods were so sullen, she felt guilty for being upset that she hadn't made her own unique, individual memories without involving Edgar. And yet here, he was all she wanted to think about. Emh's past in Minnesota was one where her life was not her own. She lived it for others, often had it dictated by others and began resenting everyone for it. She didn't want that to be the case here, yet she was too far involved with Edgar by her own doing, to pull back now. Even if she really had the desire to do so, she knew she wouldn't succeed. 'I'm screwed Raven' Emh sighed, feeling her dog arch her back in response to the pressure Emh gently placed on the dogs back with her foot. Moving a half turn, Raven now splayed out on her back, spread eagle with a goofy grin on her face. It got a chuckle, which proceeded to rile up Raven who got up and quickly pounced on the sofa with her. The two cuddled on the couch for several moments before the phone rang.

Lurching forward, startling Raven, she looked to see the caller ID and was pleasantly surprised.

"Thomas! Hi!" She perked up, excited to hear from her brother. "GOD YES, Please do!" Raven's head cocked, watching Emh flail about. "Tonight? Yes, Oh so awesome," Emh flailed more. "When does your flight come in?"

Several minutes later, her mood was entirely flipped; Emh grew excited to see her brother whom she hadn't seen since her first day in the new house. It had been awhile, however nothing compared to the time lapse that occurred between visits when they lived in the same state. He would be here for two days, doing a business meeting in the morning and a luncheon to follow. He would have both tonight, once his flight arrived at 5, and then tomorrow evening to hangout. His company had put him up in a hotel adjacent to the meeting in downtown Seattle however Emh's door was open (and eager) to house him should he choose.

"We're going to have company, Raven" Emh cooed, the overhaul on her mood quite welcomed. With the reality of plans sans Edgar, Emh's thoughts eventually trailed to him and whether or not she should bring him up to her brother. Thomas was never one for "unnecessary drama or things of uncertainty." If it wasn't a sure thing, it often was a waste of time in his mind. Hence, Edgar might be a trigger point for some pointless sparring between her and her brother.

Fortunately for Emh she hadn't a lot of possessions yet that could consume her house, so she had no reason to allocate a lot of time for tidying up or cleaning. Her house was company-ready. Thomas apparently hadn't been back in Minneapolis for almost two weeks. His job requirement of jet setting around the country from one client to the next picked up in the last month, packing on the frequent flier miles at breakneck speed.

Allowing ample time for picking up her brother, Emh was doing the loop around SeaTac waiting for Thomas to arrive. Realizing all she was doing was wasting gas since his flight was set to be on-time and she was still 20 minutes before his arrival time, Emh left the airport, fueled up and stayed parked in the side lot of the gas station. Feeling the proceeding vibration of the ringing phone, Emh answered without looking anticipating Thomas. Instead, she got Edgar.

"I didn't see you land…" Emh said before realizing it wasn't Thomas.

"Emh?" he asked, quizzical and questioning if he dialed right.

"Edgar! Hi, yeah! Sorry about that, thought you were someone else…"

"Oh, no. Just me. Am I bother you? If you're busy I can call back" he said sounding clearly dejected.

"No, just waiting for my brother's flight to come in. I'm at SeaTac right now. He called me a few hours ago and said he was in town tonight and tomorrow…"

"Oh!" Edgar said with a sound of relief so obvious he felt embarrassed.

Emh giggled. "Yeah, just my brother, I haven't seen him since my first day here."

"Well that sounds nice!" Edgar responded, relief still lingering in his voice. "You two have fun. Have anything planned?"

"No, not really; it's really unexpected. They're putting him up somewhere in Seattle but he's going to come back here for the evening. Where are you? Are you doing a little better today?"

Edgar hadn't called for any other reason than to hear her voice. He wasn't about to sour the conversation with his woes, nor did he feel like acting flippant with the emotional pain that was eating away at him. He was still in the presence of Matt, an hour or so away from his lake home. "I'm opting out of talking about me for a bit Emh. Tell me more about your brother. I like the distraction and any way to know more about you, makes me happy."

Emh smiled. "Well he travels internationally, mainly nationally though. He's a handful of years older than me and has his own family back home in Minnesota. He likes to live it up in life, money doesn't really faze him. He has a lot of it and likes to spend it. He's the reason I am able to live here; he helped put a substantial down payment on my home. He and I were extremely close growing up, we also look a lot alike except that he's a bit darker haired than myself".

Edgar smiled to himself, listening intently. She became excited and even happier than her normal self talking of her older brother. The desire began to build on perhaps meeting him one day. And as things tend to happen, that desire slipped out: "Would you let me take you two out to a good fish place I know of?"

"Uh, yeah, that'd be nice of you, but you don't have to Edgar. I mean, if you want to sure…" Emh knew Thomas would get along famously with Edgar; while distinct personalities in their own right Emh often saw a lot of Thomas in Edgar. Perhaps that's why she was able to befriend him so easily?

"Tonight work for you two?"

"I'm free and I know he is, but I'm not positive that he doesn't have something he needs to attend to. Let me get him squared away first and then we can plan it out for this evening, alright?"

"Yeah, definitely; I'm heading back to the lake house. That's where I'll be in about an hour. Just give a ring…"

"Sounds good."

"See you soon Emh," he smiled.

As the two hung up the phone, Emh began feeling butterflies bubble up to the surface in innumerable swarms. Her brother was going to meet the guy she was falling for. How did she dare play this off: nonchalant, or casually cozy? Thomas was often dense when it came to things like this. Unless it smacked him in the face, it might go unnoticed that the two he would be having dinner with, could perhaps be falling in love. Exhaling, and taking a deep breath, Emh started the car and headed back to the terminal. While on the phone with Edgar, she had received a text from Thomas that he was at baggage claim. "Eeee Thomas!" she squeed.

* * *

Back in the traveling SUV, Edgar closed his cell phone as Matt stared at him, barely minding the road. "Meeting someone?" Matt quizzed, head cocked and eyes a bit wider than normal.

"Guess I am," Edgar laughed feeling a wave of 'oh crap' "Meeting the older brother."

"Oh, is that smart? Do you know anything about him?"

"Ah, I'm not worried Matt."

He lied.

"Think Etta's is a nice enough place?" Before Matt could answer, he threw a few more propositions and questions at him in a blur of babble. He was fidgety.

"Not nervous, huh?" Matt laughed, glad to see his best buddy was showcasing something other than depression.

"Oh shut up" he laughed nervously. "But no, seriously does that work?"

The ride back to Edgar's place in Monroe was filled with the back and forth banters of the two friends. When they arrived to Edgar's home, they stayed for a short time until Matt needed to return to his place, having to get back to Alfi to ensure he still had a home standing. As the door shut on the SUV the two had been driving around all day, Matt waved Edgar off. "Give me a call and let me know how it went, will ya?" Edgar nodded in agreement.

It seemed that sunny day was welcomed after all, now matching Edgar's mood; he was returning back to his place in a far different mood than when he left. The issues in lights were placed on the back burner when Emh's name began popping up into the conversation. It was an unspoken vow Edgar made to try and limit the times Viv and Emh's name were used together. As he drove towards his place, arriving to his neighborhood and passing Emh's home, nervous jitters erupted. "Oh what did I get myself into?"

A text message popped up on his screen as he was turning the key to enter his home.

"Thomas said tonight works. He's looking forward to this." Text one created a flutter of excitement, text two: "He'll be staying with me tonight. So we can go whenever this evening. See you soon!" and the last one sent Edgar into over drive: "We'll be home by 6:30"

Edgar looked to the time on his cell phone, it was quarter to 6. "Oh crap!" he stammered.

In little more than an hour, Edgar would be facing an unexpected challenge. The grilling of a protective brother who unbeknownst to Edgar had the revelations from his little sister that she cared for the man they were meeting up with tonight. Fortunately for Edgar, ignorance was truly blissful.


	17. Chapter 16

By golly, an update on time! This will be a shorter chapter, because I liked where it ended and felt it could end where it does. Thoughts? Comments? I'll be working on the next chapter this evening. Looks like we'll be snowed in as of tomorrow, 2 feet of snow predicted… hooray! I kind of adore snow. Anyhow, after hearing from Capt. Andy, things sound like the sea could be an especially rough one for Opies. Lots of ice and insane winds. Hard to believe we're already thinking Opies, seemed like we were just getting ready for the guys to head off for the red crab season. Anyhow, enjoy this. I kinda like this chapter Now, as I always say, _in no way, shape or form is this a true story. All crew from the Deadliest Catch (eg: Northwestern, Cornelia Marie, Time Bandit, etc) are the rightful owners of trademark and registered publishing for their specific namesakes. I make no claims of ownership; I am just a writer, doing what I love._

Arm extended as though he were hailing a cab, Thomas flagged his sister down seeing her familiar blue SUV. Tossing his suitcase in the trunk she popped opened seconds before, he shut the lid, and hopped into the front passenger seat, giving his little sister a half hug. "Good to see ya kid," he said. He would always use terms of endearment that made Emh feel so young. Price you pay, she always said, for being the youngest and only girl.

"I forget how long of a drive it is to your place from here. What's our expected time with and without traffic?"

"Depending on how bad traffic can be, 2 hours with traffic, an hour without."

"Is that with you driving or a normal person?" he kid.

"That's about normal, what time is your first meeting?"

"Eight."

"Are you sure you want to be hanging out tonight, that's going to force you up pretty darn early being up here."

"I don't get to see my sis often, yes, I'm sure of it. It'll be fine."

"Well, if you're sure," she managed, feeling a nervous jitter with what she knew she would eventually flub and reveal. "A neighbor of mine, he's been really good to me since I moved in. He would like to take us out and show us a different side of Seattle. He's a really cool guy, helped put together furniture that I couldn't and has really just been a good friend."

Looking at his little sister, someone he would always find too young to date, too naive to trust and always needing a protective older brother; found himself floored at her reddened face, giving away to more than she was telling. "Do we like this said neighbor?" He beckoned, turning to face her whilst still buckled up.

"We do?" Emh responded, her admission sounding more like a question as it came out than a fact.

"Well, do we?"

"We do."

"Well, alright then. What's this neighbor like..."

Now wasn't going to be the time she would mention the age gap, or that he was a commercial fishermen or that he was recently divorced. But at the same time, she felt guilt-ridden that she would hide all that upon first mention of him to her brother. She's wasn't ashamed of any of it, Thomas just had a way of becoming a pain in the side when he found out things he wasn't especially keen on.

"Do you want the abridged version, or would you like the 'shut-my-mouth' special where I tell you all the good and what you may see as bad and just get it out there?"

"Uh..." he sat puzzled at the run-on sentence she had just said in one breath.

"I think #2..." he furrowed his brows, seeing his sister become uncomfortable made him a bit uneasy. "He's not like a parole or dead beat or anything is he?"

Emh laughed. Loudly. "No, God no Thomas. He just lives a rather unconventional life..."

"Well now I'm curious. Spill."

"He's a commercial fisherman. He and his two brothers own a big fishing vessel that goes out to the Bering Sea and fishes for all the weird kinds of crab out there. Big King Crab and Opilio and blue crab.. I don't know a whole heck of a lot about their industry, I'm learning really. He's in your general age group, towards the older end of that, I guess..." she paused, thinking of what else to say. "He has 2 kids, an ex-wife, is full-blooded Norwegian and has a side hobby of purchasing properties and flipping them. He's like fishermen by trade and carpenter for fun."

"Hmm," he mumbled, causing frenzy in Emh to decipher if that was a good 'hmm' or a bad 'hmm' - she didn't know what else to say.

"I met him a day or two after moving in. He owns the property at the end of the road a few hundred yards from my place. You know that one at the end that trails down to the water? It's that one. It's a rental property that he lives in from time to time. Otherwise he lives up in Fall City - a place I haven't seen."

Assessing his sisters fast paced speed at getting all the gritty details out, came off as endearing to him. She was nervous in telling him; 'cute' he thought as he saw his baby sister worry that here, her older brother wouldn't approve. "Well first," Thomas stated, "you can slow down and calm down a bit. As much as it breaks my heart to say, you're a big girl now, a grown adult, living way out here on your own. I think you're capable of picking out your own guys without having to seek my approval, though I am flattered you're coming off as so timid in telling me... you really don't need to. Second, he sounds like he's got his life pretty well put together. I'm not surprised to hear that someone you're interested in out here is in the fishing industry. That's a big thing to do out here, and the fact that he has a boat here with his siblings says he's well-established. A top that, if he is able to collect properties and flip them, as well as live in Fall City, it means he's well off. Aside from the divorce and kids, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, just means baggage, he doesn't sound half bad."

"So the next thing is he was willing to show us the town as I think I may have mentioned. I don't remember if I did or not, but he said he would like to meet you. I tend to gush and dote on you at least in conversation, and he would like to meet you. He has pretty good connections from the sounds of it to some nice places around town, so he said he'd like to do just that. Are you up for that?"

"Sure. One piece of advice I've learned Emh, never turn down an offer from a local. They often know the best places that tourists or businessmen like me may overlook."

"I'll let him know then. He's out in Sequim coming back to Monroe. When do you think we'll be ready?"

Looking to the clock, "give me a half hour or so once we're back to change and shower quickly to get this recycled airplane gunk off me and I'll be good."

xXxXx

2 hours later, nearing 7 o'clock, Emh had heard back from Edgar that he'd be there between 7 and quarter after. He was finishing up some last minute arrangements for the three of them, and would be over as soon as he got the all clear.

Heading from the shower, changing in just a few minutes, Thomas looked like a professor met a businessman and decided to share a wardrobe. A long sleeve button down, with a sleeveless cashmere vest topped by a suit jacket and matching slacks, while Emh fancied herself up in a cocktail dress with pumps. Edgar did say to dress nicely. Emh was curious, her interest piqued after he said he'd be 'dressing snazzy' - Edgar... snazzy! Emh giggled again.  
At exactly quarter past, a black limo pulled up in front of Emh's home and Edgar was let out by a man dressed to the nines. Walking up to Emh's door, Emh opened before he could even knock. "Wow" she said, before he could say a word. "Very nice," she smiled, ushering him in.

Rounding the corner, Thomas saw Edgar at the front door, an outfit not unlike the one he was wearing. Thankfully they were not in the same family of colors otherwise it would have looked a bit comical. Thomas extended his hand, and with a firm grip he shook Edgar's, not breaking eye contact and said "Thomas Bastyr."

Edgar not one to be intimidated, felt the coolness of his Norwegian blood flow through his veins, as he grasped just as tight "Edgar Hansen," he paused, not breaking eye contact "please to meet you." Emh had what could best be described as a coy grin on her face. It was all she could do to avoid bursting out in laughter. 'Why so serious, boys' she thought to herself.

"We have reservations for us this evening, and a town car waiting for us," he motioned toward the door. "Let us head out for a night on the town, shall we?" Seeing Emh nod, she ushered both men out of the house, neither one wanting to leave first, but quickly Edgar conceded. 'Boys boys' she laughed in her head again.

As Edgar walked a few paces in front of Thomas and Emh, Emh elbowed her brother. "Be nice!" she hissed, to which Thomas laughed. Older brother, eh? He sure was not acting like it. As they continued out the door, Emh realized that Edgar's definition of a town car was also grossly understated, seeing that the "town car" was actually a limo. Uncertain who he was trying to impress, Emh certainly was smitten, but she knew Thomas couldn't be wooed with a simple chauffeur service.

"_Snazzy"_ Emh winked to Edgar, watching as he let her brother get in after her, and then finally allowing himself in. Although he was a recovering alcoholic, it would not stop Edgar from trying to win over the brother of the girl he was courting, by having ready for them a bottle of the finest champagne. Unbeknownst to Emh or Thomas, Edgar had long before dropped the idea of going to Etta's and instead would pull some strings and get The Caché room inside the prestigious Canlis Restaurant of Seattle. He knew of this place because the owner was one of the long standing family friends of the Hansen's. Many times in the past they supplied this restaurant with their freshest catch and top of the line seafood. A few strings being pulled was the least the Canlis family could do. Edgar's father and the proprietor of Canlis, Peter Canlis went way back. After the passing of both their fathers, current co-owners Mark and Brian Canlis kept the families tied together. Brian would welcome Edgar and his guests with much pomp and a promise of an unforgettable experience. Emh and Thomas hadn't a clue what was in store for them.

Acting as host inside their transportation for the evening, Edgar popped open a bottle of champagne and filled two flutes for both Thomas and Emh. He opted for Perrier mineral water himself, continuing on his journey to sobriety. Thomas was beginning to lighten up in body language. He initiated conversation by the time they were out of the Kayak Lake development. "So, Emh tells me you are into purchasing properties?"

Emh knew by Thomas bringing this up, and not his job profession, was a sign of respect. Thomas had often spoken out against those whom meet him for the first time, and automatically bring up the conversation of work. Unless it was a job that one rarely adores, the last piece of conversation one wants to divulge in is of their job. Thomas was a property dreamer; had him not the wife and children and constant reminder to live respectably, he would be doing what Edgar was and purchasing multiple places across the board.

"Yes, that's actually a hobby of mine not what I do for a living. But I find it the most enjoyable," he commented. "I don't know if she told you that I earn my keep as a deck boss on a crab fishing vessel, but that's my primary job, commercial fishing. When I get the chance to look into other investments and properties, that's where I find I enjoy myself the most."

Thomas nodded along, sipping his champagne every few minutes or so. "I see, I see. So these property investments, are they just in Washington?"

"No, I have a few properties scattered in Alaska as well. My brother and I also own a home in Tahoe together that he often retreats to when he's not on the boat."

"I see, I see. Now, have you found investing in properties to genuinely turn profit, or how has that worked for you. Reason I'm so interested is that I've been contemplating doing this myself. With all the traveling I do on a regular basis, there have been places I've seen along the way that I would have liked to look into further and perhaps own. I'm thinking more own and then rent out..."

"That's the most profitable way, indeed." Edgar said casually, a side of him Emh was all too enthralled to gawk at. Listening intently, she too was learning things of Edgar she hadn't yet known. "By flipping and renting, you're essentially having the renters paying for the mortgage or perhaps any renovations you've made. I do 6-month and year term leases, and have been fancying the idea of doing rent-to-own options, though I haven't employed that yet."

"The real estate up in Alaska is cheaper, isn't it?" Thomas asked, "but I suppose the demand is also less than stellar..."

"That's true," Edgar nodded. "The properties I have are often sublets to fishermen who help with tendering out there. They're cabin-style properties... Until recently, and I'm talking like the last ten years, there wasn't a hotel in Unalaska. Since they built that conglomerate of a hotel, it took away some of my business. I have the regulars that rent out for periods of time, but I had to lower my price to stay competitive. It's all a money game at the end of the day up in Alaska."

"Maybe some time when I have a bit of a break, if it syncs up with your schedule, you could show me around your properties and walk me through how you started. I've been contemplating the idea of getting a place out here since she lives out here now, so I don't have to couch surf when I do visit." Thomas said, winking to Emh.

Emh sat utterly smitten. The two men were getting along famously, Thomas might consider a property out here, and Edgar was opening up and seemed more at ease than she had seen him in awhile. "Not to interrupt the conversation, but where are we headed to Edgar?" she asked, poking her head around the interior of the limo, straining her neck to see the different buildings, now that they arrived in Seattle.

"We're still about ten minutes out, I sincerely hope you enjoy where we're headed," Edgar smiled, feeling excitement building inside him. "It's a fairly well-known staple in Seattle. Great family run restaurant."

Emh was content now, happy as a clam with a little more information, as Thomas sat, trying to go through his mental rolodex on where they could possibly be heading. He had conjured up a few locations, trying to decipher which it could be. Considering the man was into fishing, he presumed it was a seafood kinda place. As the limo rolled up to Canlis, Thomas could barely believe his eyes. "You're taking us to Canlis?" he burst out, unable to contain his surprise and what appeared to be excitement.

"Yes, is this alright?" Edgar asked, looking to Emh with a bewildered look, to which she shrugged back, just as confused.

"You're kidding right?" Thomas said in excitement. "This is amazing. Everytime I've come to Seattle, I've always tried to get in for a sit down dinner, but without reservations weeks in advance it's impossible! This is like a foodie's heaven!"

"Score 1 for Edgar," Emh thought to herself, tickled pink by Edgar's efforts in showing her and Thomas a good night.

"We have the private Cache room for our dining tonight. Gives us some elbowroom in what otherwise can feel kind of cramped," he said in a second hand remark.

Getting out first, Edgar ushered out Thomas and then took Emh's hand, watching her step out. The sun was still lingering over the horizon, and up in the tree-top cache where they were to eat, they would have a glorious view of the setting sun. Thomas was now swooning himself, enamored with the idea that he was able to eat in the Cache room of the prestigious Canlis restaurant. He was struggling not to gush in his head how 'cool' Edgar was. The fancying efforts clearly worked, restoring Thomas to the vocabulary of a grade school boy. 'This is so awesome,' he gushed, thinking in his head how "awesome Edgar is," and how "totally sweet" this was.

Arriving to the Cache room, passing by many dining guests, one including the mayor of Seattle as well as local celebrity, KING5's leading news anchor Jean Enersen, the three continued their way toward the private dining room of the Cache. As they entered where they would enjoy their evening, they were met by the head chef, as well as two glasses of NV Charles Heidsieck Brut Reserve that Edgar had arranged to greet both Emh and Thomas. The room was modest in size, but held a chaise sofa, a telescope and a private server for the entire evening. At this point, he had successfully dazzle Thomas.

Emh on the other hand, could feel her heart swell with the adoration and love for this man. Unsure if the evening was meant to swoon her, or win over her brother, whatever the mission, he accomplished with flying colors. "Edgar, you didn't have to do all this," she testified, "this is beyond anything I think either of us could have imagined," she continued, pointing to her brother who was taking in the gorgeous view. "You simply are amazing."

Truth was Edgar had been here a time or two. During the fancy dinners demanded by Viv, he had seen this room plenty. In all the years he had come here, it never had the electric atmosphere it had now, or neither the camaraderie nor the thrill seen in the two faces of Emh and Thomas. While not exactly an ulterior motive, he had hopes that coming here creating new memories, would allow him to appreciate and love this restaurant once again. He adored the Canlis family, loved the food, but the memories that tromped his mind every time he set foot inside were enough to keep him away. She was worth giving it another shot, so was the idea that making someone she was so close to, like Thomas solidified the deal. He would endure whatever memories came, knowing fair well he was in the midst of making new ones. He had hope, anyway.

It didn't take long for Edgar's mind to lose track of the past he had here. The zest and zeal palpating from Thomas was enough to excite even the darkest of moods, and Emh was giving him a look one could swear was of adoration. He was in a good head space, he was happy.

Sitting back at the table and watching the two siblings explore the scenery outside the floor to ceiling windows, gave him visions of how he hoped both his children would be years down the line. Siblings so close as Emh and Thomas weren't necessarily rare, but often they weren't so obvious. He doted on her, and she looked up to him. He knew right away, after the fierce protection he was made all too aware of, that he appreciated the role Thomas had in her life. He continued to provide protection for her, long after her childhood. He was earning the respect of Edgar, while Edgar in turn was winning Thomas over. Things were going smoother than one could have even hoped.

Emh, Edgar noticed, hadn't talked much of her immediate family, aside from Thomas. Though there were a few times that hinted at 'don't ask, _I'll tell'_ ...he couldn't quite figure out that story. Old fashioned and wanting to do right, attempting the relationship realm one more (one final) time, Edgar was going to go about this with Emh making no mistakes. He required a sense of approval from her kin, considering even asking permission to date her. But with the times, as it were, this apparent approval by Thomas suited him enough.

After several minutes milling about in the room, Edgar held out Emh's chair for her to sit, as the maître d came in, serving the first of a five-course meal. Without shame, Thomas dug right in. Foodies. They're their own breed.

Before the first course was fully consumed, Edgar offered up a toast. Holding the flute high, sparkling water again his choice beverage, he spoke candidly: "to first meetings, new friendships, and promising futures".

xXxXx

Three hours later, indeed a lengthy dinner, the trio left the restaurant laughing and cavorting. Back into their limo they went, for another trick up Edgar's sleeve. Many moons ago, as a teenager, Sverre taught his three sons how to sail. In rarer times, when he would get a summers weekend off, Sig, Sverre, Norman and Edgar would head out and sail on Puget Sound. Fast forward to today, the Hansen men still sailed, but once in a blue moon. On a whim, part gift to himself, part memorial to his father, the three Hansen men went in together and purchased a Sabre that all three knew how to sail. Docked at Puget, it was rented out as a charter sail, with a crew of 2 that would do day tours of the serene and gorgeous Puget Sound. Tonight he would treat not only himself, but Emh and Thomas to a twilight sail under the stars. His hired crew member who ran it as a charter would help assist in the sail, but for the majority of the work, Edgar planned to take over.

A bit on the dressy side for the occasion, Emh, Edgar, Thomas and charter sailor crew member Alex took to the catamaran and set out. Thomas had never sailed before and was eager to give it a go. Emh realized the magnitude of this evening and how amazing and brilliant this turned out to be, and kept sight of Edgar throughout the trip. The water was calm, the wind just right, giving way to a magical and wonderful night. The clouds were far and few between, leaving the open sky speckled and dotted with hundreds of stars. The lights from the homes and restaurants on shore danced on the waves, creating a living piece of art.

Edgar's skill at the helm created a further attraction for Emh. He seemed free, smiling and laughing with her brother and Alex. Meanwhile, Emh kept a silent vigil on Edgar, noting his every movement, smile, and side glance at her. 'He's making this impossible,' she thought, recognizing that her feelings for him were soaring. They flourished in the few hours in his company; 'even if this isn't how it would always be,' she fancied, 'this is worth waiting for'. Realizing that so many months a year he'd be gone, facing danger every second of every hour he was away, it created an ache in her heart. A fisherman's family definitely faced their share of perils and sleepless nights she imagined. The thought of sending him off was already plaguing her mind, and yet here she was not really anything to his life and was already worried. 'Don't spoil the night, Emh' she convinced herself. 'One day at a time.'

The sail on the south side of Puget Sound completed around 12:30 in the morning. Conscientious of Thomas' morning start time, he got them back to dock at a decent hour, so they could head back before it became too late. Alex was the first out, offering his hand to Thomas, then Emh, followed by Edgar who hopped out and met up with the two already on dry land. "Unbelievable," he heard Thomas hush to his sister. "He's definitely approved of Emh," Thomas said, nudging his sister with a toothy grin.

Back up to the limo where the driver patiently waited, Edgar once again allowed Emh in first, and then ushered for Thomas to follow. Shaking his head 'no', Thomas mouthed 'sit next to her' to which Edgar happily obliged. Something about Edgar was reminding Thomas of an old college buddy he had. There was a slight air of mystery to both his old college friend and Edgar, yet they were also personable and very likable. He need not think very long as to why Emh liked this guy. Edgar was a pretty sweet deal.

The drive back to Monroe was a lot quicker than the one out; doesn't it always seem that way? The car ride for the first half was vibrant, full of life reminiscing over the fun they had just had, with a gushing of gratitude and appreciation from Thomas. All the fresh evening air, in addition to the several glasses of champagne she had over the course of the evening, made Emh sleepy. Initially her head was pressed to the window, taking in the scenery and coincidentally lulling her into a sleepier state. However, she forced herself upright to try and maintain some attempt at being alert, when Thomas began laughing. "You don't need to fight sleep Emh," he poked, "we won't leave you in the car!"

Smiling, she looked to Edgar who was less than two feet away. He smiled at her and nudged his head back toward him. The simple gesture, an invitation to lean on him instead of the cold window, was accepted in the amount of time it took her to close the gap. Paying no mind to her brother seeing the obvious appearance of affection, she curled up into Edgar's side and drifted, hearing the background noise of her two guys chatting, carrying on as if they were old friends.

xXxXx

Emh's place began to come into view, as the limo slowed to a stop in front of her drive way. She had woken about 5 minutes earlier, but kept her position, feeling his arm tightly around her. At some point in her slumber, he must have maneuvered in such a way to allow his current embrace. When her eyes focused, she saw Thomas smiling at her. He genuinely looked happy. Once the door was opened, the first out was Thomas, who realizing his alarm would go off in 4.5 hours, took Emh's keys to head in. Her thanked Edgar again for a fantastic time and said he'd try to check in before he left Seattle. "I'll see you inside Emh," he waved, knowing if he were a betting man, he'd bet those two would want a few minutes alone.

Fortunately for Emh, her otherwise dim-witted brother seemed to 'get it' at the right time and allocated that bit of privacy for them.

Meanwhile, Emh shifted to sit upright as Edgar took her hand. "Don't go yet?" he asked, giving her plenty of room to leave if she asked. "I just want to stand, I won't leave," she smiled sweetly.

Getting out before her since he was closest to the door, he held out his hand for her. Stepping out on the driveway, he pardoned himself for one moment, and attended to the manner of sending off the driver for the night. "No, that's alright, I can walk that, no big deal" she heard him say. Slapping the top of the roof, the car did a loop around and drove off, leaving Emh and Edgar alone.

All evening, she was fighting the urges, wanting to shower him with affection, proclaim her love and adoration. However, until now she was able to reel herself in. Sighing, she felt him take her hand. "I don't want you to get cold," he said, placing his suit jacket over her bare shoulders. The two walked toward her home, a home that was otherwise dark if it weren't for a light shining along the side of the house. A light Emh knew was the guestroom where her brother was.

"Stay? With me tonight?" she asked, tempting herself worse than ever, hoping he would accept, but thankful when she heard the decline.

They had arrived to the front door, still only the stars and sliver of the moon illuminating the sky. "I don't think that would be wise," he laughed, using his index finger to slightly caress her jaw line. "I want to though," he admitted, very quietly.

The tension between was palpable, Edgar could see her pulse quicken along the nape of her neck. Biting her lip, she so badly wanted for something to happen. She had been so good until now, fighting off the urges, and respecting both their situations. But tonight, the stars aligned for them.

And in the stillness of the moment, their lips met. An embrace long awaited was finally recognized.


	18. Chapter 17

Author's note: It's been too long. Way too long. From the last post to now, this story has done some traveling. Parts were written in NJ, NC, at the airport in Philadelphia, during a layover in St. Louis and in the air over the Midwest and East Coast. I've been sick, celebrated Christmas, was with the best friend over New Years, saw the NYC NYE Ball… it's been busy. Then life resumed on the 10th and this sat getting dusty. I had to transcribe my chicken scratch that was on a Texas Steakhouse napkin, a Dunkin Donuts napkin and a US Air and Delta coaster. Hey, you write when you're inspired, no? I spoke of the story to the inquisitive elderly woman on my flight out from St. Louis. She was intrigued and "conceptually it's quite sound, the curveball will either perturb them or make them demand more" – so you have that to look forward to. Perhaps she was an English instructor somewhere. Funny, I rudely forgot to ask. (oops) She seemed to be caught up on the idea of Viv. "Even a monster wouldn't dare behave as she has…" Oh, I love this story. She snickered at the names I've chosen, Darlington was where her ex-husband was born. With much haste, she spoke of her distaste for that and anything to do with it. What are the odds? Anyhow, a portion you'll see in this latest chapter is actually based off fact from Mr. Mike Fourtner. There's a portion of reality TV, DC included, where in production, post production and editing, they're allowed to edit you in such a way to develop characters. I.E: the "good guy" the "villain" the "under dog" and so forth. They all have to sign that release before filming begins each season to insure the continuity of their "character's portrayal". Interesting, yes? Anyway, as always… _in no way, shape or form is this a true story. All crew from the Deadliest Catch (e.g.: Northwestern, Cornelia Marie, Time Bandit, etc) are the rightful owners of trademark and registered publishing for their specific namesakes. I make no claims of ownership; I am just a writer, doing what I love.  
_

* * *

"You little hussy". Turning the page to continue his read on A5, the gossip column was ripe with information on the happenings around town and who was spotted with whom. Smack dab in the center was Emh, a dapper young fella, and Edgar. Darlington could hardly believe his eyes. The insinuation was not that Emh and Edgar were together; rather the scandal columnist got it wrong and placed Emh and Thomas as a young couple being "shown the town by what rumors suggest [is] Seattle's latest bachelor." The article concluded with choice words on Edgar's appearance and little else about the couple along his side other than they were shown a delightful time, name dropping both Canlis and the Puget Sound harbor where they set sail. "No wonder she's been missing... she's been busy" Darlington giggled to himself. It had easily been 2 weeks since Darlington and Emh were in contact and despite little effort on his part to find her whereabouts, he still felt dejected in ways.

Purchasing the scandal column that was deep within the Seattle Times, Darlington continued down to a new location he was directed to on the east side of downtown. He was promoted within the Seattle chapter of the Los Angeles-based company, and was doing a trial period for the next month to see if it was a good enough position to relocate him here for good. Still in disbelief of what he read in the paper, Darlington knew the wild card was that gentlemen with Emh. He had never met her brother, and though he could see some resemblance between the two, his interest was piqued enough and without set confirmation, he obsessed over this recently discovered piece of news. "That dirty whore," he thought to himself, "how could this bitch keep any news from me?" Though his wording was harsh, it was how Darlington was - he usually meant little offense.

Dialing her up, he came to the conclusion that that young man had to be her brother and somehow she was being coy about being seen in public with Edgar. Darlington was not privy to the whole story of Edgar's heartache, but any idiot could see back at that filming, there was some kind of tension between Emh and Edgar. Curiosity was killing him on whether or not Emh knew she was a focal point inside the Seattle Times and thought best that if she didn't know, he was the perfect one to break the news to her.

"You little hussy," he said as he heard someone answer. "You need to be careful there Emh," Darlington continued.

"Uh, hello? Who is this," an unexpected voice answered.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Edgar?"

"No..." replied the voice, sounding a bit more irritated than before. It was a little before six in the morning, Thomas and his sister were just about to leave when Emh had called out for him to answer the ringing cell. "Just a moment," Thomas said, handing the phone off to Emh who received not only the phone but an awkward look directed toward whoever was on that call. Before heading out the door, Thomas pointed to his watch; Emh nodded, heading out right behind him.

"Hello?" Emh finally said into the cell phone now that she was behind the driver's seat..

"You little hussy." Darlington repeated.

"Oh Darlington, hey" Emh said without a lot of zeal. She had distanced herself from Darlington over the last few weeks after realizing her first friend in Washington had a few sticky fingers and a penchant for gossip. He had informed her of a few details about Edgar she quickly learned were untrue, and the adoration and obsession he seemed to have over the Hansen's made her uncomfortable. It suddenly seemed that the closer she became to one of the Hansen's, the more information he tried to pry out of her. Upon confrontation of her suspicions on a telephone call a few weeks prior, Darlington's choice words scorned Emh causing her to pull back. Friends didn't treat other friends with that much disrespect.

"I'll give you a call back, I'm kind of busy at the moment, give me an hour..."

A bit put off from her refusal to hash out gossip at the ready, "Yeah, fine, whatever," he said hanging up. The unexpected rift in their friendship didn't sit well with Emh, but with each passing day, it felt like it was a better move to keep arms length away, than be buddy buddy with a notorious gossiper.

"Who was that?" Thomas asked brows furrowed in his trademark expression of when confusion met up with annoyance.

"Do you remember when I first got here how I told you there was that flamboyant guy I met who showed me around? That's Darlington and he was the one who just called."

"Yeah, and he first addressed me as hussy and then asked if I was Edgar."

Emh rolled her eyes, perfect example as to why she didn't really correspond with him all that much; he was fishing to see if she was with Edgar. "Well, I've kind of distanced myself from him. He's going to get himself into trouble if he doesn't watch it. He works for a branch of Discovery out here doing some PR and HR work. He's like a little mole, really."

Emh wasn't one to smack talk or even really give a harsh opinion about someone she didn't like. It was often her nature to state her peace and let it go. Darlington knew they were at odds, so his call out of the blue created a sort of curiosity in Emh. She knew she'd call him back, making good on her word, if nothing else just to say hello. But gathering that he stated so factually her "hussy" title, something involving her generated enough 'wow' factor that Darlington felt the need to meddle and call.

Arriving to Thomas' destination, the two hugged in the car and set tentative plans for a lunch that was more wishful thinking than plausible due to his ever changing work plans. A meeting in Denver popped up unexpectedly, parting the siblings sooner than thought. "See you later Thomas. Thank you for making time to visit," she said, feeling the sadness mount.

"Keep me in the loop with you and Edgar. I hope the best for you," he smiled, getting out of the car, his suitcase in tow. He would check his baggage at the front desk and continue on his day of meetings. He felt better after this visit with his little sister, and felt at ease with the concept of leaving Emh in the hands of the man she had introduced him to the night before. Things appeared to look up for his sister in that department; God knows she had terrible luck in love.

xXxXx

"Hussy, huh?" Emh replied back, hearing Darlington go into his 'Oh girl' mode where he was louder, more obnoxious and puckish. "You need to be schooled honey in the ways of the rich and fabulous" he said matter of fact.

Her eyebrow arched, "beg your pardon?"

"Honey, you're in the newspaper."

Emh's heart stopped. "Shut up." Was the best thing she could muster up... "Are you serious?"

"Unfortunately, yes I am" he paused "However, I am curious to say they've linked you up with someone other than Edgar. You were being shown the town by Edgar as it reports, but with some mystery guy."

"Mystery guy?" she guffawed.

"Yeah. By deduction I've figured he's your brother. However the whole scenario is curious to me..."

"Well you're right about my brother, I'm surprised they were out and got photos. I didn't see anyone..."

"They're pretty sly here, Emh. They're not like out in LA where there's photographers at every turn and visible for everyone to see. He's a celebrity up here, big name for the Seattle folks. He's gotta be careful because they're pegging him as a bachelor... don't get caught in that media blitz."

Perhaps Darlington had a point for once, that wasn't based purely off of gossip. There was some truth to what he was telling her, she knew this, she just never realized the idea that she could be photographed in public; she made mental notes on if her home would suddenly become a focus of attention. She liked her privacy; it was part of her home's charm. Considering that her Kayak Lake home was part of an association and private community, she began wondering if that would keep any nosy bodies at bay. There was some investigating to do.

"So, have you two really started to heat up? Introducing him to the family, are you?"

There was a sudden turn in her feelings for Darlington after his prying seemed to take a turn for the scandalous. She had already begun the motions of distancing themselves and their friendship, but it rubbed her wrong that he seemed so nosy. Her lack of trust in Darlington created a nagging intuition to withhold telling him much about any blossoming relationship she may have with Edgar. Emh and Darlington's friendship was fleeting, a foundation of unknown origins, and more one out of convenience than anything else. He never really bothered to return her calls or make much of their relationship behind the first week. Her novelty wore off; she knew this was for the best. He wasn't her first thought to call when she was stuck in Mt. Rainier, nor was Darlington someone she felt she could divulge her worries and concerns to once she was revealed all of Edgar's past transgressions and woes. He wasn't ever really much of a friend.

"I'm not really interested," she lied. "He's too busy with his fishing and life away from Seattle. He's just a neighbor like I said. A sweet neighbor... who is easy on the eyes, but is far too consumed in his ways and life."

She had a hunch she'd have to confess the truth to Edgar just in case by some small chance Darlington was some mole or reporter or "insider" as it were. She hated to think she'd have a quote floating around somewhere about his less than desirable attributes, when really they weren't a problem at all. "I've got to get going, though," she pushed, fibbing: "I have an interview in 10..."

"Alright, I've got to go too before I forget." And the conversation was over. Her sneaking suspicion about Darl would now linger over her. She felt as if attached to her was some sort of succubus vicariously living through her courtship with Edgar. A shame for Darlington, really, that his crushes would never pan out, but that didn't mean he'd have to sabotage her efforts or relationships. Distance between the two would be good. Good indeed.

xXxXx

It was nearly a half a day later before Emh and Edgar saw one another since their first kiss. It was endearing and sweet but also very young and innocent in how they were handling themselves; far different than most adults their age. Especially if one consider the circumstances of such an attraction between two adults. There's something very sensual about building up anticipation, allowing feelings to heat up to the point of eruption; it was a slow and steady burn she had for Edgar. The depth of her feelings would remain under lock and key until the time seemed appropriate to let him in.

Heading back to her home in Monroe, Emh was interested in speaking to Edgar; this revelation from Darlington had her spooked and a bit put off. Was Edgar ready for this speculation and prying into what private personal life he had? Was she?

* * *

"It's done. All approved, truly one for the record books, man." Sig said in jubilation. "You're one lucky son of a bitch kid".

Edgar's blank stare was accented by a crooked smile; a sense of complete freedom washed over him and created a buzz. He was at a point where he was both overwhelmed and underwhelmed. Words failed him at this point.

"Hello? You hear that? You're a free man!"

"Yeah, yeah. Just so sudden, kind of amazing to think this is all done, really"

"You're happy though, right? I mean, you still want it and everything because now is a hell of a time to say otherwise."

"No, no, of course I want this. It's just surreal. She's been around for more than half my life..."

"And a pain in the ass for most, too" Sig reminded, bugged by his brothers lack of enthusiasm.

"Thank you. Thank you for everything," Edgar said, a bit monotone but sincere. "This is a burden that I never thought would lift, or could lift... and you've been very instrumental in this happening. Thank you..." he trailed off, his voice cracking under the reality that this wasn't just some bizarre dream. Edgar had weathered many storms on the Northwestern, many experiences with empty pots, hard knocks and being pushed around in his early days aboard a ship run by his father and father's friends. 'What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger' he always heard. True, at least in that instance of fishing with old timers and a crew ready to break you. But this was different. He wasn't stronger, nor was he weaker from this expansive relationship. He only had the loss of time to mourn, for if he were being honest with himself, the good years with Viv were so short and such a long time ago, he really wasn't losing out on anything. He would keep his children, his livelihood still intact... maybe now, he could really try for happiness when it came to his personal and private needs. The possibilities could be endless.

The call was short and sweet. Sig even in his private down time was a man of short, concise wording and very little fluff or filler. He had finished what he set out to accomplish for his brother, with grace, speed and without any information leaking to the press. Being the Captain of the ship, the head honcho and go to guy when matters concerned the vessel, Sig was aware of the sharks waiting to feed off of any juicy tidbit they could. Fishermen typically didn't have this kind of press, but the show created that for them and they "just had to deal with it" as Sig often said. But even he knew it would be crossing the line if someone tried to pry when it concerned an affair such as a divorce; time would tell if somehow it got out. "Be smart, don't address anything unless you feel you need to, but it's best just to keep quiet. If she starts talking, we'll have a representative make a statement and be done with it."

"They don't know about my vacation rentals, do they?"

"Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you've already been tracked. You appear to have had an outing with Emh and some other guy yesterday and it's in the papers today. Jules caught it."

"What?" Edgar said in disbelief. He may be used to blogs and fan sites and the occasional meet & greet, but to make the scandal and gossip section of their local paper? "Give me a break!"

"No, front page, up in the header margins, continues somewhere around page 4 or 5."

"What the fuck, what's it say?"

"Could Deadliest Catch have its next bachelor? Continue page 5..." Sig said, reading the paper his wife had pushed toward him while they were at their breakfast nook. "Sources spotted none other than Seattle's own Deadliest Catch deck boss Edgar Hansen out and about last night. Appearing to take role as a guide, a young couple was shown the town by what rumors suggest [is] Seattle's latest bachelor." Sig sighed, "Apparently they've already speculated kid..."

"Go on," Edgar urged, amused that the siblings were mistaken as a couple.

"The evening appeared to start at Canlis, a world renowned restaurant for fine dining, followed by an evening sail on a charter boat rumored to be owned by the Northwestern's own Hansen brothers. Arriving and departing in style in a stretch limo, it appeared for the evening the youngest Hansen brother remained solo, sporting neither wedding band nor date in tow. The Internet world has been a buzz since photos of the youngest Hansen went viral showing a visibly missing gold ring. Stay tuned, we have a feeling this isn't the last time you'll be reading about Edgar Hansen..."

"Lovely." Edgar remarked. Sig noticeably became more disgusted with the passing minute of his readings, while Edgar stayed at a baseline of irritated.

"Think your new girl could have tipped them off?"

An immediate bark back of "NO" indicated to Sig he really meant it. Very rarely does the temper flare with such little provocation; "Absolutely not. She's the last person that would ever do such a thing. I don't even know how one would tip someone off... besides why would she say she's on a date with her brother? That guy she's with was her older brother. I was on good behavior, I for one am never all over her, I reel that in, and two I have more respect for her and her brother than to do that openly in public. She and Thomas are very close, as close as I hope my kids will be when they're that age, but I'm going to have to talk to her about this. I have no shame being photographed with her; she just needs to be ready and prepared for it. She doesn't need to be blindsided."

"I agree. You may want to get a hold of her sooner than later. She'll likely find out about this one way or another, if nothing else, should she go into the cities, she may even be confronted about it. "

"Yeah, I will, I see her pulling up now. She had to drop her brother off downtown. Mind as well get this out of the way..."

"Good luck with that. Say, come on over for a BBQ tonight, bring Matt, come see your kids" Sig teased.

* * *

Pacing back and forth, ringing her hands, Emh was making herself more nervous with each passing minute. 'Raven, let's go for a walk' she called out. Almost in a blink of an eye, Raven appeared at Emh's feet, leash in her mouth, ready to go. Hooking her up, the eagerness of the black lab was full force as she began dancing and pouncing at the front door. Down the short drive they went, turning right to head towards Edgar's house. Raven would be a distraction in case it went south or got awkward. 'Ye of little faith,' she laughed to herself.

To her surprise, Edgar met her in the drive way "long time no see," he smiled to her, extending his arm to wrap around her side, placing a kiss on the top of her head. She melted every moment he was around her, the patter became a bit faster with his every touch, every caress. "Say, I have some things I need to bounce off ya" he attempted to say, faking a bubbly personality trying to pull this whole discussion off with as much grace and ease as possible.. Little indication was given of the hundreds of butterflies that were freaking out inside. "Want to continue the walk, or would you like to step inside?"

"Whatever you prefer? Although I've been curious to see where this path leads," Emh pointed, "that one that is a few hundred yards past your home...?"

"Well let's go find out," he smiled, making motion to hint he would like Raven's lead. The exchange from one hand to the next gave Raven the impression she had a longer lead and tried to bolt, tugging Edgar a few feet opposite their intended direction. Raven was usually pretty good on her leash, but she was fixing to run, whether Edgar was attached to her or not. Realizing the distance that was beginning to grow between them, Emh started to jog after them, eventually closing the gap. Walk eh? Yeah, not so much, but the jog would work too.

"We're going to have some sore muscles in the morning," she managed between breathing, "no warm up, and an impromptu jog?"

"Yeah, oh well" Edgar huffed. "I really should have quit smoking years ago," he struggled, more worried with the inability to breathe versus the worries of a sore body tomorrow A silent plea to the rambunctious black lab didn't go unanswered though as just like that, her own interest in running waned to a slow trot. "Raven, girl, you're gonna kill me" he laughed between huffs, "Good God!"

Surprisingly, the trio covered a bit of ground, taking them through a faux prairie with long wild grasses, intermingling about tall trees and thick brush. "This isn't exactly what I had in mind," he laughed to himself after catching his breath. Both Emh and Edgar were now in uncharted territory for either one of them. Their general sense of direction was rapidly deteriorating and neither one seemed too concerned. "We seem to have this knack at getting lost in the woods together..." he randomly stated.

"We" Emh thought to herself. Funny how a simply pronoun could cause a flutter. "I quite enjoy our little outings" … she managed as she giggled to herself repeating the 'our'... Thankfully, Edgar was blissfully unaware of Emh mentally face palming herself. She realized the ridiculous nature falling in love reduced her to, but didn't care. She was just short of doodling his name in a notebook; Emh truly was a textbook school girl for him.

"You hear that Emh," he stopped, listening intently as he held his hand out stopping her from walking. A sound of water trickling down was faint, but somewhere in the distant woods. "Shall we hunt for some waterfalls?"

Her eyes grew to the size of saucers; a spring in her step gave him all the answer he'd need. "Yes, absolutely, I'm always up for this kind of stuff. I must confess, I'm also the person that when you see those searchlights flashing in the night, if I'm in a position to do so, I'll hunt them down."

Did she really just admit that out loud? Her face reddened, but he laughed cutely. "I can honestly say I'm not surprised." Her hue deepened even more. They continued their walking, Raven leading the way, when randomly Edgar reached down and grabbed her hand. There wasn't any building up of anticipation for it, nor did it feel strange. It felt natural. A quick glancing at one another revealed a smile, and so it was. Walking hand in hand, Raven still on the war path to find whatever it was she was sniffing out, the three came to the source of the noise they heard hundreds of paces ago. A stream no larger than a yard wide cut through the woods they were walking. Several rocks created the noise they heard, where the water danced across the surface. It meandered down the woods surface, its trail lost to their eyes only a few hundred feet away. "I bet you this is runoff from one of the state parks north of here," Edgar professed.

Walking around the edges of it, Raven felt the need to wade through it, coming up to her chest in depth. As certain areas grew deeper and then shallow, she would respond to bouncing her way across or paddle, following both Emh and Edgar as they followed the trail downstream.

Stopping as they heard the water begin to rush a bit faster, Edgar called Raven out. Despite knowing a shower was inevitable, he'd rather they get a mist of water from her, than chase after a dog down a roaring waterway. What opened up before them, as they inched their way further down, was an unexpected surprise. They were at the very top of what had to be a 40' drop, the water rushing past Edgar's left, straight down into a lagoon-shaped water bed. "What falls are these?" Emh asked, moving a little closer to peer over the edge. Every move she made closer to the ledge, Edgar's grip tightened. It was endearing.

"I haven't a clue. I didn't even know these were here."

"Where exactly is here, do you suppose?" Emh looked to Edgar, a smile on her face as they both looked around.

"There really doesn't seem to be a reference point that I can use. I've never seen this before, so I don't know. I know we have state parks all around, but these don't appear to be well-traveled. Not sure hun..."

Realizing they had only right to go, the two began to wind their way down to reach that lagoon collecting the water. At the edge of the water there was a perfect clearance. "So, I don't know about you, but I want to sit" Emh laughed.

"Oh you're so wonderful, yes, lets" he exhaled. Raven began whining the minute the two sat idled. "Think it's safe for her to go in there?" he asked, looking to Emh, then the water that Raven clearly wanted to get into.

"Sure, she listens pretty well. We'll get her out when we need to go."

"C'mere girl," Edgar called. "C'mere. We'll let ya swim. Impatience not allowing her to sit long enough to have the chain unhooked, she stood staring at Edgar, waiting as patiently as an impatient black lab could. She looked to Emh then back to Edgar, and just before the clasp came undone, she licked him such a one, and then jumped right in. Wiping off her adoration with the back of his hand, he laughed. Looking behind him, he saw a relatively study looking rock and leaned back. At some point the falls must have been wider many moons ago, because the rock had been rounded and smoothed down by water as it looked.

"Now this is nice: peace and quiet, a gorgeous view, and a beautiful girl by my side. What more could a guy ask for?"

Emh smiled, sitting Indian style, watching her dog, and every now and again stealing a glance at Edgar. "So you wanted to bounce some stuff off me earlier, what's on your mind?"

Exhaling, and sitting a bit more upright, he knew he'd want eye contact for this conversation. Despite day dreaming of curling her into his side, hearing the rushing of the water over their own personal hidden falls, Edgar knew it was best to have this heart-to-heart with Emh face-to-face. "Well, talking about this kind of thing is so surreal to me it's almost like having an outer body experience. But it's an unfortunate ugly necessity to my life now."

"Okay..."

"I'm a lowly fisherman, a guy who keeps to himself. I feel like you could do a lot better than me, I've failed at a lot of things in my life, which is why I've stuck with fishing. I've become some kind of idol to random people in the world because of a silly reality show. If people hear that they assume I'm ungrateful, that I don't appreciate all the blessings and whatever else they want to say. Truth is, I was happy with who I was before the show, I didn't need the extra income nor did I ever want fame. Fame's a bitch. Especially since it's like…why? Why do I make the news? Who cares what I do or where I go? What's so interesting about me that I need to...?"

"Be written about in the newspaper?"

"You saw?"

"I did."

"I'm sorry Emh. I didn't know. I had no clue. This is still all oddly new and very surreal to me to have people trying to photograph me and post some gossip about who I'm with or what I'm doing. I don' think like that. I don't preplan my day to possibly avoid such a thing. I guess I'm going to have to..."

"Not necessarily."

"How's that?"

"You just don't have to. If the people that you consider close to you in life know what's up, what does it matter than of some silly speculation? You get to decide what portion of control you give up of your private life. Part is already decided for you because of your exposure through that show, but the real you, behind the scenes, with your family, in your home, out with your dog for a jog… just keep doing it. Stay Edgar, there's nothing scandalous about your life hun…"

"That damn Internet is always there though. Those fans, some of them, should be hired on as private investigators. Especially with the divorce just being finalized, I want to be able to go through those motions without it being played out in a daily article for hundreds to read or thousands to find online. I don't want my girlfriend harassed, I don't want my neighbors or the community we're in to get the third degree, or possibly turn on us and rat us out."

"There's only one other house occupied in this community. I think that's fairly safe for now. Besides, by the time these are ever filled here, all this will be old news."

"But the fact that it's news… speculation is going to drive me crazy. Is he or isn't he… what does it matter if he does or doesn't?" he questioned rhetorically.

"If it makes it any better, I promise to help somehow. You can vent, and we can work out getting that frustration and tension out in a healthy way. Diffuse any situations… however I can."

Grasping her grin, he stroked it twice with his index finger. Though unusual, it was endearing. Apparently anything he did was to her, she realized, and especially when it was coupled with eye contact and a smile, Emh knew she was a goner. "I don't want to see you dragged into this…"

"So what if I am? This is probably going to come out sounding bad, but it's not like I have this reputation to uphold or some kind of public image to maintain. I'm a transplant from Minnesota; I have no public record or damning skeletons in my closet. I've had bad relationships and crappy boyfriends. I was in a pretty sheltered situation back there… whatever they come up with, should they bring me into it, and I can promise is almost 100% made up should it get to that point. The only loose cannon could be Darlington, and I've already kind of backed away from that whole scenario…"

Situating himself a bit different, shifting his weight, Edgar sighed heavily, and then pulled Emh into his chest. "Come here," he said. Snuggling in closer, Emh happily obliged. Barely louder than a hushed tone, "why couldn't you have come into my life years ago…"

Placing her chin on his chest and looking up, "because then we wouldn't be having this moment here, in our own little oasis."

He nodded in silence, as he clutched her whole body tighter, staring into the cerulean blue sky. Emh meanwhile found her own piece of heaven, draped along Edgar's side, head perched on his chest. The rhythm of his heart beat into her ear, her arms snug against his body.

Raven meanwhile, continued to swim.

xXxXx

Standing before post production, Darlington's heart raced with glee. He had the proverbial golden ticket. Before he could say anything, he was approached. Without extending a hand to greet him, they got down to business.

"We develop the characters. These men signed away their character portrayals and rights the minute they signed on to the show. We create what the public see; we've got plenty of footage, now we need the back story. You promised us some good details and an immediate link. That's why you're here. So what do you have and who do you know?"

Darlington stood there straight faced, with post production and the editors of the Discovery Channel's Deadliest Catch team. Finding himself without a voice at the most inopportune time, the production member continued. "We're piecing together the new season still, and we need your information to build and develop these characters a bit more. You're in, not because of anything other than what you promise you could bring, so what is it? Why should you be here."

"I personally know Edgar's girlfriend."

Just like the Grinch who stole Christmas, or the Cheshire cat, the production member smiled. The minute the words escaped Darlington's lips, the production member's arm found its way around him, ushering him towards more crew. Bedazzled by the acceptance and warm exchange, Darlington was ready to dish what he knew.

"Her name is Emh," he said "and I can give you all the details you could possibly need."


	19. Chapter 18

**Author's Note:** Hey everybody, remember me? I know, I suck. To date there's probably easily a million reasons as to why its been _months_ (OY!) since you have received an update. But to my faithful readers, I will never abandon this story. I'm stuck like glue to this baby, and now I have the time. I'm making a 3200 mile move in 2 days where I will be in writer's heaven. Lots of time, lots of quiet and lots of inspiration. I kid you not, this chapter has had to be rewritten close to a half dozen times. You'd think I'd learn to have autosave by now, but alas, I was just very careless and horribly crushed when this .docx disappeared on more than one occasion. Due to these flubs, this chapter got super long and may seem disjointed. It's Emh's background. It'll make sense for the next few chapters which are already plotted and have a scatter graph/outline for them. More frequent updates now that the last hellish semester is over. Doctoral programs = no joke! I plan to type up the next chapter on my 6 hr flight Monday and post it while in the terminal for x amount of hours. That's right, I long hand chapters every now and again. Okay, enough off that. I'm back! Didja miss me? 3 to all. ~DS With that said, as always, _in no way, shape or form is this a true story. All crew from the Deadliest Catch (eg: Northwestern, Cornelia Marie, Time Bandit, etc) are the rightful owners of trademark and registered publishing for their specific namesakes. I make no claims of ownership; I am just a writer, doing what I love._

* * *

"…He said I wanna see you again  
But I'm stuck in colder weather  
Maybe tomorrow will be better  
Can I call you then..."

"Say hun," Edgar pushed, "you've made slight mention before… but what's your history like? You know all about Viv, my rise and fall with all that went on and had gone on… what about you? You can open up to me you know. I won't run off scared from anything you can possibly say."

Emh was multi-faceted. Some parts of her were so easily understood, whereas others rivaled the deep calm waters like Norman's. Her eyes held behind them a story she had yet shared. Channels and rivers ran through, weaving together a picture Edgar had no idea the depth of or past riddled with such despair. He could feel it though. She danced around the subject one too many times, subsequently causing a pang of hurt feelings that Emh didn't quite trust him enough to open up. This was the same man that had shared everything with her. Time was on his side though, he had waited in the wings for her to come around and if she didn't freely volunteer the information, having waited as he did, gave him the go ahead in his mind to being prying. To love someone completely, you have to know them inside and out.

And so there it was, the moment Emh dreaded. A past so deeply buried; contentment and time had placated. The dustier and more recessed the memories were, the better off she was. "I can say this much. I wrote it all down in a journal. It reads as a bad fiction, but it was my life for so many years. Can I give that to you, let you read it, and then go from there? I don't like retelling the whole thing, which is why it's written down. I wrote it as I was going through the motions, while they were still fresh and I knew if I didn't go through them one by one and document it, somehow I would never get my closure. I needed that inner personal peace with myself and to be okay with all that had gone on."

"Definitely, however works best for you. Norman is big into writing things down, I understand that completely," he paused, so wanting to push to see if he couldn't read it now. He bartered with himself to stay patient, to wait it out and perhaps let her offer it to him. However his curiosity relented, tip toeing around the idea he finally succumbed. "So, when do you think I could take a look? I'm curious hun… I want to know more about you. What is your story?"

Scooting off the outdoor chaise lounge that was on the upper of her two decks, Emh ventured off inside leaving Edgar and a damp Raven to the warm Seattle day. Their walk concluded with a climb back up hill and an aimless hour-long excursion that finally lead them into Edgar's back yard. A short while later, they headed to Emh's place where she could feel the curiosity mounting in him about sharing more of her past. Walking through the living room, down the stairs to the lower level, a shelf with books, met by two antique bookends, held together various journals and writings Emh had done through the years. Amid the middle section, a leather-bound journal, with a red lace bookmark stood. The creased spine showing little wear stared back, begging to be plucked from the row of other memories. Without much hesitation, she grabbed for it and headed to Edgar before anything could stop her. He had a right to know, and if she was to open up to another man completely, she had to let the past go and let him in.

Sitting down next to him, assuming the position she was in prior, Edgar brushed aside her hair and anxiously waited. Exhaling, Emh forcing herself to speak slowly, (or it would end up a long mess of a run-on without making a lot of sense) she managed; "the memories of this no longer haunt me or stop me from living," she told him, clutching the journal, feeling the smooth soft leather under her grip. "It has been a journey to get here. I am happy, very happy, and can finally say I feel healed; though as you know once memories are made, you can't so easily forget." She paused, appearing contemplative or perhaps reflecting, Edgar figured, but she continued. "I've moved on; I have held this journal as a documentation of what I've been through. It's a tangible stepping stone, a testimony that I am quite resilient, and not some pejorative little girl like I felt and thought for so long. This leather-bound journal is my irrevocable proof that I'm strong, that I can endure a lot, and still manage to come out the other end of whatever afflicted me, as a whole person. I was changed, but grew from this; it helped shape who I am."

Edgar listened intently. He had been curious of her story since he met her; yet as opened as she was about most, she guarded a side of her like Fort Knox. "Are you sure I can see this, has anyone else?"

"No one has read what is inside here. I only wrote it for you, really. I wrote it for my future, so he could understand my past. It's a narrative, reads through many years, following along the story of me. I pieced together things over time… this is the final product."

A quiet lull graced the two before Emh handed it off. "There are pictures in there, mementos, everything you may want to know, wanted to ask, or trivial things that may explain something you didn't even think to ask or wonder about. It's raw, uncensored."

Shifting his eyes towards her, Edgar would be lying if her said he wasn't even more curious now but also a little nervous. Her forwardness and willingness to expose this to him though already meant a lot to him. She really wasn't afraid to let him in. He knew what he was about to read was special; no one had read it before him.

Kissing the top of her head, he opened the journal. Emh sat closely by, staring off into the wooded backyard, her mind wandering back to the time Edgar was becoming familiar with.

* * *

_Opening the journal, in nicely written script, it simply started._

"I would have followed him to the ends of the earth," Emh sniffled, pouring her heart out to her best friend over the phone. "And just like that…" Emh was draped over the same bed she had as a little girl. It was the same old room, one story down from the main floor, off to the left in pastel shades. She was back in her childhood home crying to her best friend who was half way around the world.

Oh, how Emh longed for that redo where she said 'yes' to Jessica instead of Anthony, rather instead of making a decision she would forever regret. Like Jessica, she could be in the sun now, on a perpetual holiday with the Australian beaches surrounding her, rather than alone, heartbroken and in her parent's basement. A long sigh escaped her lips, hearing her friend from thousands of miles away trying to make it better.

Knowing Jessica was just trying to dissipate the mounting feelings in any way she could, the conversation just left Emh feeling more displaced with her thoughts and flooding more with regret. She could not contend with the decisions of the past; they had already been done. "It's all about the future Emh," her best friend continued. "Write it out, write this all out for the man of your future, so he can make peace with your past too, and allow for you two to grow together in the future."

Because of her, I am writing this.

* * *

Anthony and Emh had grown up together; faced many challenges and endured a lot of heartache in their 20-years of life. But together they faced the good fight side-by-side. They met in 1st grade. At that age, there was nothing more than a boy and a girl who got along well. They liked the same things, played at recess together, and soon became a focal point of other classmates teasing.

_Edgar's mind piqued with curiosity; was this genuinely a chronicle of her entire life? Could such an event span from this age? He read bemused, wondering what this woman next to him had been stowing away, hidden from the rest of the world. He continued, turning the page._

Emh was bigger than Anthony, as most girls were at that age, towering over him a good 6 inches. Even still, Anthony was very protective over her as they entered into the years of where teasing became the norm, cliques were for the rich, the skinny and were always exclusive; they never included Emh. Emh however didn't mind, she always had Anthony.

Their friendship and tight bond solidified more each passing grade. The year before their last in elementary school, summer had changed Anthony. He had grown nearly a foot, he continued his exploration of the gym and lifting and came back taller, toned, and quite handsome. While this was all to the surprise of the students that for 8-years had given him grief for being the skinny geek; Emh knew all along of her best friend's attraction. She had begun developing a crush during the 3rd grade. Little did she realize then, that the feelings were reciprocated! They spent years dodging the inquiry from students, though both Emh and Anthony's face would redden at any accusation. They kept their feelings for each other to themselves, denying it year after year.

When it became expected for kids to start dating, neither one did. Many had asked Anthony but he always shied away. Emh on the other hand was oblivious to anyone's attempts at asking, while in truth few dared to ask; it was always known she was with Anthony whether she knew it or not... the guys did.

8th grade came to pass, the final year together at that school before the high school years would start. Summer brought about a funny thing, a confession of feelings. The summer Anthony spent away, down with his family, which was made up of a father and mother, no siblings for him, in sunny Tampa, Florida. Emh stayed in Minnesota, contemplating her options for when or how to tell him she cared for him more than friends. So she wrote him a letter.

It took a lot to muster up the courage to write what she did. It was quite long, could have been abbreviated, but she poured everything she had into it. Six pages, front to back, smaller writing than typical – (she didn't have girlie handwriting). She sent it off June 3rd. June passed and she heard nothing, then July and then August. No response.

Humiliation and confusion spread; how could she have been wrong? She only dared to write this letter to him because she was certain he felt the same. It made for a long summer, fraught with panic, depression and embarrassment. They had already considered doing high school together, though his parents wanted him to continue on in private education, whereas her parents couldn't afford it. They parted their grade school under the assumption that it would take a lot of convincing, but that they could manage to convince their parents to keep them together.

_Thumbing through page after page, Edgar continued to read. His lack of comments worried Emh, but she figured he just needed to keep reading. _

Unbeknownst to either Anthony or Emh, their parents had been speaking all along. His folks were concerned over their closeness; Anthony confided in his parents he felt Emh was his 'soul mate' – a great concern coming from their 12-year-old son. Emh on the other hand, was quiet when it came to speaking about Anthony; she didn't say much, but a mother always knows. A smile when his name was brought up, concern when he wasn't in class, thoughts of a high school year without him; she was still water, but still waters run deep and Emh wasn't the greatest at denying true feelings.

The decision was made without either Anthony or Emh having to beg or barter with their parents. Separation wouldn't do either one a bit of good. They managed good grades in middle school together, and as if high school wasn't tough enough, creating a separation between the two would just add more reason for issues. The parents agreed to ask their children, separately if that is what they truly wanted: 4-years of high school with the other.

A decision made very easily.

Before Anthony left for Florida, his parting words to her were the good news. "So, it seems we'll be freshmen together," – a high note that Emh worried she had foiled with her profession in the letter.

It was a long summer.

She received a response 1 week before his flight was scheduled to land. It was simple and concise: "Meet me at the airport; flight is in at 1pm, terminal 1, concourse E, Thursday, the 24th".

She began feeling like a schoolgirl again. Endless questions, self-doubt, excitement and concern. Her mother agreed to drive her down to meet Anthony. It was a long week, but it arrived and off the two went to see home her friend she had missed so dearly over summer. She saw him the minute she reached concourse E. Perfect timing. He was coming off the plane, his skin a dark tan, his hair shorter than before, sun-kissed highlights through the darker shade, spiked up into a messy do. She saw him before he saw her. Her cheeks flushed, she had to suppress the urge to run and hug him. Emh wasn't sure if the letter coupled with a hug would seem like an ambush – she still wasn't aware of his feelings or response to her admission.

It seemed he was looking everywhere but at her. The crowds began to part around her, businessmen, families and solo travelers alike in a rush to leave, when he finally saw her. He towed behind him a sizeable suitcase, and strapped to the top of it was a bouquet of flowers. Emh, however, didn't see these.

He rushed toward her, her heart swelled. She got her answer, and the butterflies began fluttering when he enveloped her in a lingering embrace. He whispered in her ear "I've got something for you" and reached behind, grabbing the bouquet of gerbera daisies. "There's no question," he said, presenting them in front of her. "It's always been you, it'll always be you. Young or not, I know I love you and I know I always will."

And in that moment, young love blossomed.

* * *

High school took the new couple by storm. Though their relationship was based on a rock solid friendship foundation, no one could prepare the young couple from the realities of high school life. Seniors picked on them as a couple, but couldn't manage to single just one out. Anthony was always around to defend her, and by Anthony's sheer size, (comparable to seniors) no one dared say a word to him. However, when the banter would escalate at the both of them, they brushed off the remarks as best they could.

What typically would have derailed or fractured a relationship only managed to make theirs stronger. 9th grade was in the bag, and the summer before 10th grade they caved to outside peer pressure and things turned physical. As it were, it was an emotional experience for Emh, but she shared in that for the first time with Anthony; he was there for her and all of the motions that followed. By now, their bond was iron clad.

10th grade came and went without a hitch; Emh's family became fearful for her future when word spread that she and Anthony had become so inseparable, even more so than what they already thought was a bit too close. The normally Anthony-approving parents Emh had, started to backpedal worrying she would never really experience life with him always at her side.

The summer before 11th grade, things changed.

It was a week before Anthony's parents were due back from the annual family Florida vacation. Unlike years prior, Anthony stayed back home to spend time with Emh. He received a phone call around 9pm central time saying "an accident has happened" – the rest became a blur.

[Emh was staying at Anthony's place while his parents were away. While Emh's folks were disapproving, Anthony's were not. Emh was already like a daughter to them. She fulfilled Ann (Anthony's mother's) wish of having a daughter and Paul (Anthony's father) doted on her just like she were his own. Emh often apologized to Anthony about the treatment he received from her parents, but the minute their suspicions were confirmed that their only daughter was no longer 'virtuous' – things changed.]

As Anthony sat up, Emh could tell there was something wrong. They had been on the couch watching a movie when his entire body tightened up. He didn't say much, "are they okay," Emh heard him ask. "What am I supposed to do?"… "No, I'm an only child; most of the family is out in Florida…" "Yes, okay..."

The call rattled him to the core; he looked to Emh eyes welled with tears. "My parents were in a bad accident, someone ran a red down in Miami and t-boned their car."

"Are they okay?"

For the first time in all their years together, aside from when Anthony's childhood dog died, he cried. Inconsolably he sobbed. "No."

Emh's stomach sank; she had no indication of what happened and by the sight of Anthony, it was bad. He folded into Emh, his body contouring to her curves, wrapped up in her arms. "My mom…" he sobbed, "she was so young…" he continued "I'll never see her again…"

Little pin pricks overwhelmed her system, her mind raced a million miles. In that moment, all she could do was hold him. Overwhelmed in her own emotion, unable to formulate anything to articulate to him, Emh had no idea what to do. The feelings of helplessness and sheer devastation numbed her. He had just lost a parent. Unbeknownst to Emh, Anthony wasn't the only one who would be suffering a great loss because of this. Quietly, in a house that now felt too large and so empty, Emh cried weeping for her boyfriend, and for the loss of her own motherly-figure.

_It was at that moment Edgar reached out to Emh to pull her in. His arms in one fell swoop gathered her, clinging with his one free arm, as if to let her know he was there, and he would always be there. He was amazed at this point so far, she was as solid and strong of a person she was, enduring what she had. He continued to read, this time however, Emh was pulled to his chest._

* * *

That night they spent sleepless in his room; they both cried, they laughed at memories, and now fear for what was to come. Anthony's father was on life support but had a DNR/DNI order not known at the time to the first on-scene rescuers. There wouldn't be time to get to his father before the life support was taken off. It was in direct conflict of his father's wishes and the family they had down there, who were able to make it before he too passed, said it was for the better that Anthony didn't see his father like that. They suggested it be closed casket; the one to view both bodies, Uncle Ray, his dad's brother, regrets having to be the one to make the positive identification. Accounts he wished he'd never have to remember but would forever be etched in his mind.

Making funeral arrangements for both of your parents at barely 17 was not something typical for a junior in high school. Especially two weeks before classes started. Nor was it something either knew how to do. At a moment when Emh's family should have immediately stepped in without hesitation, they were reluctant. Eventually, after Emh freaked out on both, they relented and offered up whatever help they could be to both her and Anthony.

Things started to surface like wills, properties, lawsuits, relocation, family and orders of custody. Anthony suddenly had to fight to keep his home. His parents weren't even back in the state before the phone began ringing off the hook from relatives he hardly knew, or sharks out wanting to represent him in a lawsuit he wasn't even aware of.

11th grade began the unraveling of Emh and Anthony before their semester even began.

The funeral service was held one week to the date his parents had been killed. It was a large ceremony of unfamiliar faces wishing well, crying to him, coming at all angles with stories and promises. The thought of attending his parent's funeral made him weak-kneed the night before.

Anthony had close-casket at his uncle's suggestion. The viewing turned into more of a prayer service than anything. The parlor was plastered with picture boards throughout Ray and Ann's childhood, life, and marriage. Pictures were with and without Anthony and Emh, some unseen, some with fond memories attached. It was amazing for Emh to see how many pictures she was in; they too were like her parents. She had more photos with Anthony's family than with her own.

Emh had to talk Anthony into staying at the parlor till the last well-wisher had left. It gave him some private time to mourn his family in peace. Emh stayed by his side until she excused herself to the reluctant Anthony. "It's best you do this. You need it sweetheart," Emh said.

Walking down the narrow aisle, she shut the doors behind her and waited in the small gathering space just outside. She sat down in a chair, and less than a minute passed before she heard his wails cry out. It broke her heart, she silently wept with her own private thoughts.

The next day went by in a blur. Emh spent the night again with Anthony and would now for the foreseeable future. Helping him dress in his suit and tie, looking more grown up than he ever had; the two would be front row, the first people next to both caskets in the catholic funeral ceremony. He wasn't able to bring himself to be a pallbearer, matter of fact he wasn't able to make eye contact with anyone beyond her that entire day.

The evening after his parents were laid to rest, company lingered at the home until early evening. It seemed so empty, so big; a home that otherwise was home-like and happy, now had a sullen dark cloud looming over it. The two young lovers wrapped in the others embrace once company finally left, stared blankly at the moving playing on the television.

* * *

Classes started up for the two in 5 days. The high school they attended were aware of the loss two of their students endured over summer, and gave a grace period for them. A letter was addressed to both but sent just to Anthony's home about their excused absences, indefinitely, so long as they maintained contact with their grief counselors. They both had planned to start up on the first day… they shared the same mentality, to move on, you must keep moving.

11th grade came and went; it started out rocky and both their grades began to slip. At the turn of the New Year, Anthony began pushing his bright idea of getting married. Life would be easier as a married couple, than as two unwed 17-year-olds. They quickly became engaged, all to the dismay of Emh's parents and caused great concern for the school. Both schooling and Emh's parents were mainly focused in on speaking with her, more than anything else. They understood from many aspects why he would be interested and the gains he could have. Emh on the other hand, they wanted to make sure would be doing this for the right reasons, would be able to make it with a clear head, rather than be swayed by feelings and what was right versus what she felt she had to do. Emh knew she loved Anthony, there was no doubt.

Summer before 12th grade, things took a turn. Despite the engagement, Emh noticed a difference in Anthony that she couldn't shake. She hadn't been living with her parents since before Ann and Paul's death and never moved back after they were laid to rest. The will would be read when Anthony was 18.5-years-old. He was a January baby, so they stated should anything happen before he was 18, the reading of the will wouldn't take place until he was half way to 19 so any changes could take place in summer. Whatever orders the will would execute, could then change, however life as it were until that point, could resume per as normal as possible. Translation: he was able to stay in the house, his parent's life insurance covered all expenditures and he received a stipend to live on until that reading of the will.

Changes in his personality began to show themselves closer to the anniversary of his parent's death. As it were, it was barely 2 weeks before the starting of their senior year. Over the year since his parent's death, his lively opinion on life ran on a rollercoaster of emotions filled with highs and lows. The deepest of despairs Emh was able to combat with him, but it was that gray area that began consuming his personality. She felt walls being built around, but for the first time she wasn't inside, next to him as they went up.

Half way through their fall term, Anthony was hit by an urgency to move, to leave it all behind and go somewhere else. Aside from his fiancée, he had no reason to stay here. The ring on her finger, his grandmothers ring, though held significance for many reasons, started to feel like just a piece of metal when so easily their future changed, and disappeared in his new lavish plans. Emh began to wonder if there was a spot still in it for her. At night, in his home with him, they still had their routine, still loved like a young couple, and he still held her at night like he always had.

However, Emh couldn't shake her concerns. Back at his place after class let out, he had gone to get the mail. A bombshell came in the size of an 8x10 envelope.

Anthony had received his GED. Advisors and counselors pushed for Anthony to receive his GED rather than depend on a diploma. News he was just breaking to her. He wouldn't graduate on time, his grades over the last year had slipped so dramatically, he wouldn't have the credit hours to receive the diploma, and would require a summer session. Emh had tried to keep on top of his school work, they shared the same classes, but a shift in instructors and a late term change last fall had them experiencing high school classes alone for the first time in 4-years. Without Emh around, he gave up. He slacked off and then lied to her, sparing embarrassment, adding yet another layer of bricks around the high walls he'd been building.

"A GED?" Emh gasped, "why didn't you tell me, I would have done it with you…" and in Emh fashion, she would have walked any line, done any deed to maintain that zone she had known with him. Life without him never existed. Panic set in. "Are you leaving me?"

"No, no, never honey… I want you to get the diploma. GED has the stigma to it, a diploma doesn't… this just assured us that I can continue my education, let's be real," he said, "I never would have gotten my diploma." Hugging his fiancée who was nearing tears, he held her with a half-heart endearment. He knew that if he weren't attached to her, he could be free right now.

Anthony had been debriefed in a moment Emh was unaware of, back at the funeral parlor by his uncle that the reading of the will was going to shake his foundation. Apparently his parents didn't truthfully anticipate dying before he was off on his own, so all of their assets would be distributed to the various charities that Ann and Paul had been a part of. The house would have an estate sale, barring everything except personal items he wanted to keep, and all his possessions. He would have 5,000 to his name, and would be out of a home. He'd have his personal furniture, bed, and belongings, and nothing else. He had known this for more than a year now without telling her. He'd need that GED faster than he could get a diploma to start working somewhere.

Anthony dropped out of school the week of his birthday, he was 18, he had his GED and he was free to go. So he did. He showed up to class as always with Emh in tow, kissed her goodbye after their second period class, and said he'd see her at home. Emh had plans with a girlfriend after school, but would be home in time for their supper.

She got home to a letter that read: "I needed to do this. I couldn't tell you because I was afraid. I need to retrace their last steps, I'll be back. I left the itinerary on the fridge. Love you"

* * *

It was a long two weeks he was gone. But he came back with a sense of closure she understood he needed. He'd spend the nights talking to her about what he saw, heard, the family he visited with that he hadn't seen since the funeral. And yet another bombshell: his uncle offered him work, down in Tampa. It would give him marketable skills back up here, he proclaimed. His uncle Ray owns a shop where Anthony would work as an apprentice, under the head mechanic, and use the 6 months Emh had left in school, to learn what he could to find work back home. It was the chance Anthony felt he needed, he wouldn't take "no" as an answer from Emh.

The conversation left her feeling like a huge void had now found its way into their relationship that spanned 10-years. The house hadn't been a home in over a year, though entangled in his arms at night, it felt so lonely; she was feeling all alone.

Without much struggle or fight in her, knowing this was an opportunity he couldn't afford to miss, she drove him to the airport Monday morning, on a one-way flight to Tampa. Return date...sometime in June…maybe?

Emh's senior year came crashing down around her. She started spending nights back at home, the house too daunting to be in, though when she missed her fiancé, she'd run back in a minute just to find a piece of clothing that had his smell still lingering within. She felt silly thinking she were still engaged, she didn't feel like it. Calls became less and less frequent, starting up with several times a day, to barely now a 5-minute call a night. There wasn't a question of another woman, Emh was confident in that, but Anthony's parent's death changed him in such a way that he didn't seem like his old self. He never regained that spirit in him that he had before their loss. Their death forever changed him.

When something like that happens, it either brings you closer to the ones you love, or creates a huge divide. When it became apparent that it was the latter, the obviousness of this fact growing more evident with each passing day, Emh unraveled.

During spring break, she flew down to visit. He welcomed her with opened arms, and their passion was like their first night all over. However, he was different yet again. He seemed happy in a way Emh hadn't before seen. He loved what he was doing, but didn't like Florida. It had a stigma to him now, it held a memory he couldn't forget. Anthony began realizing he needed constant change. However that posed for a new set of issues. A life like that wasn't conducive to settling down, and planting roots.

His desire and need for continual movement was his way to grieve, I figured.

Spring break came and went. 8 days worth of questions followed her on her flight, back to Minnesota and continued all the while they were separated. As promised, though, Anthony returned for Emh's graduation, to watch her walk with their class, receive her diploma and accolades for doing so after such a rough year.

Her intentions to follow Anthony to Tampa were short lived. He wasn't planning to return to Florida. The reading of the will was only 3 weeks away.

* * *

3 weeks worth of summer, young love, what life should have been like for the two had Anthony's parents both not died; they lived like they hadn't a care in the world. Every red flag that could fly was waving high in the air, but Emh still chose to ignore it. Paradise wouldn't be lost on a fledgling reality that was bound and determined to devastate them in a short while. What Emh didn't know, Anthony figured, wouldn't hurt her so make these last few weeks wonderful. It read well in his mind at least.

They didn't speak of their future; they just lived day by day. Together in their young love, acting the part of two foolish kids who didn't have the weight of the world on them; it all seemed perfect on the surface.

Towards the end of those three weeks, Anthony began talking to Emh in terms of history, past tense, and all of their memories. The night before the reading of the will, he let her in on what he knew.

Emh was leveled.

* * *

The will read as Anthony's uncle pre-warned: the house he grew up in would be subject to an estate sale 2 weeks to the date of the wills reading. From there, whatever wasn't sold would be donated. The home was to be the last item given away. Habitat for Humanity was to be given the home, fixed up to whatever codes were current, and given to the family that needed it the most.

Anthony would be fine, was annotated. He was allowed a 5,000 stipend as first told to him, and whatever memento or heirloom he would like. This stipend would be the last one he received.

The day the home was vacated by Anthony and Emh would be the worst day he had faced since their death. He didn't want to see the bits and pieces of his memories purchased for pennies on the dollar, or to know the new occupants of the home. His last steps out of that home would be the last ones to ever set foot on that piece of land.

* * *

All things considered, Emh's family allowed Anthony under their roof, in a separate bedroom from their daughter as Emh's parents faced their own troubles. Walls all around the young couple kept caving in, and it was evident very quickly on that Anthony's welcome was a very thin gesture and was wearing out at break neck speed.

A job offer for Anthony came through connections from his uncle, who, after being proven right on his brothers will, took pity on his nephew. The offer was up in Oregon, a small auto shop that could rent out the space adjacent for next to nothing for him to live in, and defer the costs from his paychecks. It would be temporary, but would afford him the money to continue living; albeit day-by-day.

Emh began getting pressure from her parents about continuing on and making something of herself. She applied on a whim and was accepted into the local community college for their licensed practical nurse program, though she knew it was a first-come first accepted basis. Her academic records held little importance over the early submission.

Anthony encouraged, while she protested. It would mean more to her to go and struggle in Oregon, than to stay back in Minnesota, enduring yet another long distance relationship between them. Especially since this time she didn't need to stay back. His urge, his convincing did little to reassure her of their relationship status. They were drifting, he just couldn't let go.

He went to Oregon the week she started up classes. Half-way into the first semester of her nursing program, her family life started to fall apart. In a swift few weeks, her parents separated, and her mother was in and out of the hospital due to complications of Diabetes. Due to the rigorous nursing school schedule and the little leeway when it concerned absences, Emh quickly fell behind and withdrew from the program. She would continue her general education, though, but just couldn't keep pace with the program while everything around her was crashing down.

_Edgar began stroking her hair as he read, page after page another heart-wrenching revelation. His heart was hurting for this girl that was curled up into him. What more could she be keeping he wondered? _

At her lowest of lows, coming from the hospital after a visit from her mother, she called Anthony to try and find comfort or at the very least some sort of solace. She was met with an unsympathetic undertone from him that was more callous than she had ever heard him be, ever. She reasoned it was because her parents were still alive and a crisis in a hospital is far different when she's alive, than 6 feet under like he referenced. But it still hurt.

Spurned and lost, Emh retreated into herself and fell into a rut. Her mother was released into her care, and her best friend came to her rescue with a tantalizing offer that sounded too good to be true. "I'm going to Sydney for a year, and you can come too!" The sliver of happiness she felt hearing of all these wonderful opportunities came crashing down to reality when the fact was, her mother had been released into her care, and Anthony was to come back during Christmas. She just couldn't do it.

Helping Jessica plan for her adventure acted as a crutch, both physically and emotionally for the times when school became too relenting, and her mother's health too great a burden. It was nice to escape into the realities of her best friend, even if it meant they wouldn't include her.

Rather than feel rejected that Emh chose Anthony & her obligations to her mother over her, Jessica was seen off by her at the airport. Another person was leaving her life. This became the undertone, the theme for Emh. She was getting good at being alone, understanding the distances, and having people constantly leaving. It didn't mean she liked it, but Emh could handle it.

The holidays came, her 19th Birthday rounding the corner; when Anthony made a visit back to Minnesota things were just like they were when it was still good for the first few days. "I can't be here anymore, there's too many bad thoughts, too many memories I can't deal with" he said, "I can't go back to Florida either. Emh, I just can't" he said, overwhelmed and coming unglued before her.

"I can come with you. Wherever it may lead us, just please, let me come with. How am I going to be your wife or even your fiancée if you don't want me near you?"

"I still have some healing to do. I hope you realize that before I can feel guilt-free about being me and enjoying and loving life again."

It was the closest thing to an explanation that she would ever get.

* * *

Year 19 came and went with distances growing farther and farther between Emh and Anthony. Emh clung to an idea fancied by hope Anthony had filled her with. Meanwhile unbeknownst to her, he managed to process his grief, to find a position to maintain a living wage and figure out the meaning of his life… all without her. One day, while stopped at a diner while passing through Nebraska, he called her. Whether it was a random coincidence that he realized it was her birthday as he dialed, or the intention for why he was calling, he heard a soft spoken Emh answer. "Happy Birthday Emh," he said, stoic without a lot of emotion, matching the tone he received. "I'm just outside of Lincoln. I have a job as a long-haul truck driver now, I'm in a Kenworth! It's an Alaska-based company down here in the lower 48."

He was rambling.

"It's not a great wage, but on the side they're showing me the ropes on working diesel engines. Maybe it'll pay off. I got a tattoo the other day… a memorial to my parents. Oh, how I want to see you again" he said, sounding upbeat, something she hadn't heard in awhile. It had been 6 weeks since his last call, though the delivery of it quite rushed due to the time limit on the pay phone.

Finding an inner strength, Emh finally projected thoughts she had to muster up on her own accord, to finally tell the man who captured her heart so many years before… that it just wasn't going to keep on like this. "I can't do this anymore." He heart was racing, pulsating in her throat as it sped up waiting for his reply. What she was met with was far from the reaction she had expected.

"I understand." He said.

"That's it? That's all you can say? Anthony, I've waited three years for you. I've loved you since I was 5. How can you just let us end like this?"

"The only thing I know to do now, the only way I can live life now, is to keep moving."

"At the cost of losing us, me, the future we could have?"

"I'm sorry," he said.

The phone went silent, and then there was a click.

It was Emh who hung up.

* * *

_The narrative turned personal now, indicating ownership. Edgar realized this as he began reading words that were more personal, ones he lent Emh's voice to. _

I wore the ring on my left finger another year before parting with it, and the idea that it held. I was 21-now and had a semester left to go for my A.A.S. My mother's health was stable, leaving me with time to size up my future. It was so blank. I hadn't lived much, just a pawn in Anthony's way through life. I had never loved like that before, nor felt that kind of love up until Ann and Paul's death. Afterwards, the path of destruction it left behind had me, my heart and my life in its wake. I write now of my life experience with Anthony in a journal, to write out everything, uncensored, candid, with pictures too dear to burn, and too precious to throw, with a conclusion. It was the only sort of closure I'd ever gain with him and his parting words "I'm sorry". I have the date, the time, and the whole memory from start to finish etched in my mind. It's sitting there, deep in the recesses of my mind waiting to find a permanent home. I'm not willing to grasp at it, bringing it to the forefront and handle it as though it's still precious cargo. Instead, I've been weaning it from my life with careful and calculated ease. I've been decidedly determined to come up with some sort of closure regarding that chapter with my life as Anthony's fiancée. It has been an arduous process, because I need it to be more than just symbolically. I need it to be done and over, somewhere for safe keeping, where my mind can wander on a particular day to the whereabouts of where I've left it, but in the same breath can be safely buried so if my mind were to never return, that's okay too. It needs to be tangible; it needs to be mourned as so much of my life has been held within those memories. But it's time now that I finally address it, where I can break free of the grips it has had for so long. So I can move on, without bring brought back to where I started from. I would place it all in a time capsule.

Shortly after the idea came about, I knew I couldn't part with the items until I was absolutely ready. A year passed without hearing from Anthony, but my heart and mind was always wondering. Another year away from him, things started to get better, but landmarks, homes, buildings and friends would always manage to throw me back to a time where he was in my life. Even cleaning out my own home, I'd come across mementos of our courtship. I began to understand Anthony's desperation of needing to be away from Florida, of Minnesota, but mine were reasons due to him, not the memory of his parents like him.

My 24th Birthday came and went and the 50's style life my family lived, with their narrow minds and scarlet letter they forever classified me with because of my sexual relationship from many moons ago, began to suffocate. I had outgrown my home and needed a change. There had been a couple guys since Anthony; a know-it-all-physician that assumed I'd swoon at his title, and cave to his advances. Then there was the rebel who thought he could corrupt an otherwise naïve and innocent looking me, to the businessman who I thought had potential until he slipped up and mentioned a wife. They all paled in comparison to the feelings I once had with Anthony, but I knew nothing would ever feel like the first time or ever be like that first love. I'd hold out until someone right came along, someone I happened across, not one I went searching to find.

_Edgar smiled to himself, heart swelling in ways knowing that their courtship happened organically, very natural without anything other than life happening to bring them together. He felt so many things by reading this, but he could tell he was nearing the end of the entries.  
_  
My move wasn't abrupt; I had been planning (and even plotting) after all the years I waited for Anthony. I fantasized about being out there in the world , hopping city to city like he was, but on my watch, not his. kept me occupied many sleepless nights, and for once I was able to use the site not simply for amusement, but for real.

I always wanted to venture out farther west than I had. Wyoming seemed too dull, Seattle, a perfect blend of nature, ocean, mountains, city and people. The house picked me. The city won me. And my mind was made up. The past of life with Anthony began to fade, getting dimmer as the days pressed on. Finally that day I dreaded for so long, approached. An element nagging me from the day I conjured it up, became a necessity.

With permission of the new occupants of Anthony's old home, I returned just before I'd leave for my own trek across country. There, in Anthony's yard, I would buried the jar with the contents of Anthony's grandmother's ring and a note that read: "what could have been, what should have been, but what never was. Anthony & Emh 2003" On the back side, another message written: "Lincoln, Nebraska. 8:14pm, pay phone diner, January 20th, 2006." I sealed it tightly and buried it beneath an old Maple that we'd played under as children. Things finally came full circle in that moment when I finally let that part of me rest in peace.

* * *

It had been almost 7 years since I was engaged to Anthony, 4 years since he moved for the first time, and nearing a year since I finally allowed me to be okay with a new chapter in my life. I hadn't heard from him, nor did I think I ever would again. It was 6 weeks to the day I had buried the capsule when I left Minnesota for Washington. If all fared well, I would be coming back to pack for the long cross country move.

Things turned out quite well.

I found myself a beautiful quaint home in a wooded area of Monroe, Washington where my home would back up to a private lake where I could kayak and canoe. I had Mt. Rainier to the east of me, I had water at my back door, I had a fresh start to a life I had yet to live, as a single woman, with an education staple under my belt, and the desires for worldly experience with the intentions to live life fully.

My last entry will be today; I am in my new home, bare floors, nothing but the clothes I packed that made the drive with me and my brother. The movers should be here tomorrow. I feel brand new. Like somehow I've managed a new lease on life, or an appreciation for things I once never saw, or couldn't acknowledge. I'm in love with life again and am ready to perhaps even love again. On the car ride out here, there are mainly country stations, and a song kept repeating over and over throughout the 1,700 mile trek. It's become my anthem, I guess. So what better than to part with that line, that has been repeating over in my head? My own four-walls surround me, with infinite possibility and where beauty abounds. I'm ready to be me again.

"Yeah, I'm ready to feel now.  
No longer am I afraid of the fall down.  
It must be time to move on now.  
Without the fear of how it might end.  
I guess I'm ready to love again..."

* * *

_Edgar thumbed the last page, knowing well it was the last of the entries, but turned the page just to make sure. He felt heavy, weighted now by vicariously living through such an emotional experience through her writings. He couldn't surmount any worthwhile words he gathered, so he instead sat silent for a few passing moments, hugging Emh all the tighter and even closer._

She had gone through a lot, lived a life time in such a short period of her own worldly existence. If he weren't convinced before, he was now that the two of them were meant to meet like they did, how they did, and even when they did. Their two accounts weren't so different, down to the skeletal level. She was hurt, hurt badly for a long time, and lost a lot. Edgar's experience differed only slightly. With respect to not physically losing someone, he had lost in every other respect.

Collecting his thoughts, he tried with valiant efforts to compose what he wanted to say. "My sweet

_Emhilese__, how do I even start… what can I even begin to say!"_

"Let me…" Emh looked to him, eyes glistening with the slightest hint at forming tears. Her expression wasn't one of sorrow or sadness, nor did it look especially happy.

"okay…" he said, silently thankful that he was afforded more time to formulate what he wanted to say, than babble incoherent thoughts.

"Before you can figure whether certain questions are too touchy or taboo, I'll volunteer more information. I loved him dearly and held on to the hope that he'd come around while I was still willing to wait. But I grew tired of hoping, hanging on to words I was reading between the lines, and questioning the meanings of what he would tell me. It took a lot to differentiate the difference between love and true love. What he would have done instead of what he did, to showcase his feelings and devotion. I played volley one too many times with him, and each time the distance between grew greater and longer, and the residual effects lasted longer and it hurt even deeper than the time before. I was slipping into a rut; there was something incredibly monotonous about the life I lived, where I took comfort in routine. It was methodical and kept me in that bubble hoping. I started dating when I realized he wasn't going to go back to the man I loved so much and fell so hard for. The one I was enamored with died alongside his parents. I never was one to contemplate the idea of marriage, but when I had it dangled so closely to me… I would be lying if I said I wasn't yearning for it. It's amazing what love and respect and admiration for a person can do to your once deeply rooted, stubborn ways. Everything changed in me when I was with him. I went from hating the idea of marriage, children, to dreaming of what our babies would look like and the archaic names we'd give them. I have to thank him for that, really, because I see that all I was was a scared girl afraid to think I could be loved enough to marry and become a mother. But I see that I'm worth it, that I can be that, and more importantly that I want that kind of life."

Edgar sat still, taking in the words she spoke, realizing she was younger than he and never had her own children. His heart was still in thousands of pieces, something Emh could definitely understand, but it wasn't out of the question for him to do it all over again, if the right woman came along.

"_For being this young, I sure feel like I've weather many storms. I lost my identity when I first started through the coping motions of this loss. Feeling like you're the least desirable person at 21 and already old and washed up can do a lot to your morale. But I came through it. Slowly. I'm ready to love again, Edgar. I hope this shows you that while I do have a past, I have moved on from it. I'm not afraid of the future. I see the beauty in what was once broken, because I'm made of so many pieces myself. I'm not the whole, virginal prize that is without imperfections."_

"I am thankful for that. I attribute it as to why you're here, in my arms, not judging me as some washed up, uneducated, failure, divorced with kids. Much of what I just listed off would be a red flag for women, any woman, but especially at your age. You can still find those flawless or less flawed men than I, Emh…"

"Why would I want that? Through my journey to get here, I've realized that my history is what makes me the woman I am today. Through the hail storm, the bad days, the tears and the triumphs, I've come out the other end stronger, more self-aware and assured than I was before. To be the bright eyed, green, still-wet-behind-the-ears girl I was? No thank you."

In an abrupt move, Edgar placed a kiss on the top of her head. Sitting forward, he pulled her with him, and just smiled. Behind the weather worn skin, the tired eyes that could tell a thousand tales, there was a kindness Emh was falling in love with. Her heart beat faster in his presence, the best indicator Emh ever needed of knowing he was it. She wasn't yet ready to reveal this, however.

Getting lost in her eyes, Edgar's heart was smiling. Could it be this old fisherman was falling for her? Foreheads pressed together, their eyes locked; a crooked smile sprawled across his face, as Emh's cheeks flushed in a show of bashfulness. A chuckle escaped from Edgar, perhaps an embarrassing show of giddiness, as he pulled Emh once again into his chest. It appeared it would take an interventionist to get these two to profess feelings to one another, but they both knew.

Stroking her hair, minutes had passed, as he listened to Emh humming the tune to the song she had ended her journal entry with. In a moment she had paused, Edgar barely above a whisper spoke "I'm ready too…"

* * *

_Seems like I was walking in the wrong direction  
I barely recognize my own reflection, no  
Scared of love but scared of life alone_

Seems I've been playing on the safe side baby  
Building walls around my heart to save me, oh  
But it's time for me to let it go

Yeah, I'm ready to feel now  
No longer am I afraid of the fall down  
It must be time to move on now  
Without the fear of how it might end  
I guess I'm ready to love again


End file.
